


Not The Right Time

by HecoHansen31



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Angst, Discussion of Abortion, Discussion of Custody Battles, F/M, Heartbreak, Infertility, Pregnancy, Teen Pregnancy, Unexpected Pregnancy, single mom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:54:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 70,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23115793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HecoHansen31/pseuds/HecoHansen31
Summary: It wasn’t the right time to have a child and it isn’t the right time for you to meet your child’s father after he had broken your heart so long ago, but maybe… time and Destiny are two huge bastards, who like bringing people together at not the right time.
Relationships: Ivar (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s), Ivar (Vikings)/Reader, Ivar (Vikings)/You
Comments: 67
Kudos: 120





	1. The Story of How We Ended Up There

**Author's Note:**

> I am honestly a bit attached to this because it is the first one which came to my mind and with it being modern! Ivar I feel a bit more secure about the characterization, but still… let me know where I have to get better or work better!
> 
> I also wanted to explain that this is fictional and that some choices made by the reader are due to the plot and not what I actually and personally believe about such a complex argument as abortion.
> 
> Don’t feel judged in the slightest by this (and if you feel, please know I don’t mean it, and what I can do to avoid this mistake in the future).
> 
> Again this is a prologue to the bigger series, but it is mostly to know whether you like this idea or not!
> 
> So if you want more, please leave a comment so that I’ll know what you think about it!

Who could end up pregnant… the first time they had had sex?

And worst of all, when you were nothing more than sixteen years old.

You weren’t also the type who would risk such thing.

Although you were naïve you were well-aware of the need to use protection.

And then, in the heat of the moment, you had forgotten about everything.

Just for eight weeks after to cry on the toilet, at the discovery that you were pregnant.

You hadn’t noticed it at first: you hadn’t gotten your period for a month, but you hadn’t thought too much about that, it sometimes happened.

But then, a few weeks after you had started feeling bad, both not energetic enough to do the normal chores and also extremely nauseous, which had then resulted in you thinking that pregnancy might have been a cause of your unwellness.

You had thought for the entire time you had been waiting for the result of the pregnancy test, that it wasn’t possible, it would obviously turn out negative.

You had a successful life ahead of you, a child… wouldn’t ruin your life, but certainly it wouldn’t have ruined all your dreams.

You had been mortified to discover that you were indeed pregnant.

And then you had been indignant: there were people who constantly had unsafe sex, every time they had it and they would never ever end up with a baby on the way.

Then you had had sex once, and shit went down.

Back then you had been scared shitless of telling your parents and had hidden the pregnancy test: what would have they thought of you?

Still you had thought that you had to talk about it with somebody.

And more precisely, the father of the baby.

You and Ivar were the typical high school sweethearts: you had moved slowly from friends-to-lovers and were both late bloomers in the sex department.

Hence when Ivar had wanted to ‘try’, you had been over the moon at that news.

Lately he had grown distant from you, after you had had sex, and some part of you couldn’t help but think darkly that he wasn’t interested with you anymore ‘because he had finally gotten what he wanted’.

But you knew Ivar better than anyone: he might appear like the coldest ice king, but he was sweet and soft with you, shy and gentle, the perfect gentleman.

So, you had thought to at least inform him about ‘the child’, thinking that it was also partially his decision about the baby, although right now some part of you, the one who wanted desperately to continue on dreaming wanted to delete this ‘mistake’.

But some deeper part in you, thought about what a lovely life would have been to share a child with Ivar.

It might not have been perfect, but you felt like it would have been a nice image.

A nice image of your future.

But when you had asked Ivar to meet you at your favorite diner, the one you had chosen for your ‘first awkward date,’ he had also told you that he had something to say to you.

Had he realized that you might have been pregnant?

The entire situation there had seemed rather awkward, Ivar had this acute gaze in his eyes, not to talk about the harsh way his mouth had been closed closed in a thin line for the entire time.

He had arrived late, meanwhile you were halfway through the second of a milkshake you had been having, the pregnancy cravings playing an important role in your diet lately.

“Hey, sweetie!” you had welcomed him, your high-pitched tone, expressing your happiness to have him there, he always fixed your darkest moments “…how are you?”.

Unlike you, he didn’t seem in the mood for any sweetness.

He simply replied with a nod and ‘a fine’, waving the waitress over for a coffee, you stared at him for the entire time: you hadn’t seen him in quite for quite a few days, due to studying, and couldn’t help but set your gaze on him, welcoming any new traits of him and wanting to kiss them, passing a finger through…

“… I don’t have much time, so I’ll say this as quick as I can” and then he had caught you in his icy gaze “… I am not in love with you, anymore”.

An arrow shot through your heart would have hurt you less.

You had stammered some questions, but Ivar had been glacial in his words, definitely not asking for any reply.

“… I have discovered it from quite some time ago, I didn’t want to tell you till I was sure, but these last days… have been… I didn’t miss you” every word was a strike to your hear, and you hadn’t been able to properly protest “… I am sorry, I pulled this for so long, but I can’t…”.

Then and there you had gotten up, probably the best option possible, the only thing of that day that, looking back, you were proud of.

You had been crying on the sofa when your parents had found you, and there you had explained anything that had happened to you.

Child included.

They had been disappointed with you and your father hadn’t talked to you for the entire pregnancy but your mother had been the bigger support for you.

She hadn’t shouted, unlike your father, but just asked what you had wanted to.

‘Do you want to…?’ she hadn’t been able to talk about the option of abortion and you had understood her: she wouldn’t approve of it, but she would have helped through the entire process “… or do you want to keep it, babygirl?”.

“Shelley! Of course, she’ll fucking…! She is too young, she can’t fucking take care of a child!” had retorted your father, and you had covered your ears, shielding them from his hurting words.

It was as if for the first time your father wasn’t seeing his little girl anymore.

And you had chosen to try so desperately to go back to that image he had of you, choosing abortion, but when you had heard the child’s heartbeat, you hadn’t been able to carry on

You had gripped your mother’s hand and pleaded to her not to go through this, not to kill your baby.

Although you’d have to grow it alone, although the heartbreak was still pretty real and although it seemed the worst and you weren’t ready, you just couldn’t delete all this, so simply.

You had taken private lessons to hide your pregnancy, since you hadn’t wanted to reveal it to anyone, avoiding any outings unless you were sure you wouldn’t have been anywhere near people you knew.

The first week after the break-up, Ivar had continued on blowing up your phone with messages and calls, but you wouldn’t even look at his messages, ignoring him till you had convinced yourself to block his number and when he had tried to visit your home to talk, he had been lucky your father was out, and you had pleaded with your mother to fake of not being inside.

You had graduated from high school, one year prior, thanks to all the credits you had collected during the years and had a private diploma ceremony with your family and your pregnant belly.

You had grown to love your baby during the pregnancy: you would talk to them whenever you could, caressing your belly and chatting with them about your day, all the funny stuff you would do together and what the world outside looked like.

The entire birth part scared you like crazy, but you thought it would have been worth it.

And it had been as you had held your child in your arms, after hours of agonizing pain.

They had been forced to cut you open since the child was taking quite his time and you wouldn’t dilatate yourself, enough.

But when you had woken up your mother was lulling him in her arms.

He looked beautiful, having gained two beautiful blue eyes and a smile that made your heart clench.

Too bad that the doctor had taken it from you too early.

‘He seems to have problem moving’ he had mentioned, meanwhile he visited the baby ‘Is there any story of problematic diseases, troubling mostly bones or muscles?’.

‘The father has osteogenesis imperfecta’ had explained your mother, meanwhile you called out for your child ‘… but it isn’t…’.

‘No, sadly it is’ he had explained, meanwhile he gently handled the baby’s legs ‘… I can already feel a few broken bones… this is going to be much more difficult than you might think’.

Your mother had been scared about having to help you up, but you and Erik had just done fine, not without mistakes and problems, but you had managed to love your son and give him a proper life, even with his ‘problematic’.

All of this, without Ivar.

The Lothbrock had moved out on Erik’s first birthday, something which honestly helped you, since the thought of Ivar not meeting Erik stopped your ‘house arrests’ and pushed you out of the house, even more because you had to actually get a job.

Working as a waitress didn’t make enough income to help you with a child and the thought of moving away from your parents (although your mother insisted that you didn’t bother them, you felt that your father wasn’t of the same opinion) was terrifying, so you had taken up to giving some lessons to high schoolers and some more salutary jobs.

You ran all the time around, and had to definitely renounce to going to college, but each night, when you would come home, breathless and tired, to Erik, your sweet child, you knew it was worth it.

For five years it had been perfect.

And then everything changed.

* * *

Ivar knew he was already fucking late to the meeting with his brothers.

It hadn’t been properly his fault, although he would rather die than confess to his brother that he had been seeing a fertility clinic with Freydis, to try to start their own family.

The sole mention of a fertility clinic would have raised questions he didn’t want his brothers to ask.

Hhey already seemed to have a feud with Freydis that had been ruining his wedding’s preparations.

He already could hear Sigurd making fun of him for not being able to please properly a woman, which was partially true.

Through the years, his stupid prick hadn’t gotten up for any woman, even his beloved Freydis, the one woman that made him feel a god.

But it had happened once, probably more out of luck than anything.

His first love and the first girl whose heart he had broken.

And you had returned the favor: he reminded the days after he had acted onto his brothers’ wishes, when you wouldn’t answer the phone and pretended not to be at home.

It had been enough for him to feel like you didn’t want him anymore.

Maybe it was why his stupid prick wouldn’t work.

Some of the sex therapist Freydis had brought him to, had suggested that his ‘inability to raise to the occasion’ was due to some rejection his past, so it might have been actually true.

But he didn’t trust any of those doctors.

He simply did it for Freydis, because she still hoped.

He didn’t, anymore.

He walked in the diner, it was a small one, similar to the one of the city he had lived, before he moved in the big city, for work and for many more occasions, but he couldn’t help but regret the beauty of these small places.

They never aged and they always brought him comfort, timeless and always there for jim

He had had his first date in one of those.

(He had also broken up with his first love in one of those).

He still didn’t let himself drown in his thoughts, knowing that going back in time and turning it, was impossible.

(No matter how much, sometimes, he wished he could do so).

He immediately recognized his brothers’ table as the noisiest one, moving straight up to it, not minding the fact that half the eyes of the clients in the diner were on him.

It was one of the many side effects of being a cripple.

“You finally joined us!” exclaimed Hvitserk, talking through a full mouth of food.

“Unlike you lazy asses, I have things to do” he mumbled as Ubbe shifted to make him some space next to him “… can’t survive on father’s paychecks only”.

He sent a direct look to Sigurd, who was using his father’s paychecks to support his (failing) musical career.

“At least I don’t have to be reigned by my girlfriend” muttered darkly Sigurd and Ivar wasn’t able to stop himself from almost attacking him.

Thankfully Ubbe did it for him.

“No need to fight brothers” he stated, readjusting the glasses Ivar had knocked over “Don’t make a scene, we are older than children and we are here to have a nice night among brothers, are we not?”.

“I am here for the free food” muffled Hvitserk, offering a humor relief that made all the brother laugh lightly.

They talked more civilly and then a waitress moved in to ask their orders, but Ivar’s ears were suddenly attracted by another noise, a voice that had belonged in his memories.

Had he left them open?

And then he turned to where the voice came from.

And he saw you.

He remembered you as a sweet girl, what you had been hadn’t changed, except the way you carried yourself, showing a growth, a painful one that hadn’t changed what you believed in.

But it still left signs.

As the scars of a battle.

You had your hair up in a high ponytail, and you were wearing a waitress uniform, probably working there to fund your way to college.

Your eyes were tired, but your lips were crooked in a small smile as you took a small child’s ordination.

He thought he was hallucinating, when Hvitserk again spoke up:

“Is that (Y/N) (L/N)?!” this got all the brothers’ attention to shift to where Ivar was looking, although he wished nothing more than to shield you, because he had discovered you first.

“… oh shit, yeah it’s her” muttered Ubbe, following your silhouette as you turned your back to them to move to counter “… I thought she would be in college”.

“Some people don’t have their parents’ back up, she might be simply working to pay college” muttered Ivar, but nobody seemed to hear him.

“She hasn’t certainly aged a day!” commented Hvitserk, giving your ass a meaningful look “… ahh can you remember when we dared little Ivar, to…”.

Ivar shushed him with a dark look.

But when he was doing this, he didn’t realize that Sigurd was waving you over.

You approached the table smiling, since you and Sigurd had been an unlike friendship, and Ivar still remembered how his ‘most sensitive’ brother had been against the ‘dare’, but as he turned to face you, you seemed to realize who Sigurd was with.

And the soft smile fell from your face.

You seemed to have seen a ghost.

“Oh Gosh, (Y/N), it’s been a lot since we have seen each other!” commented Sigurd, meanwhile your waitress friend asked with her eyes whether you knew these people or not.

You simply nodded, forcing a smile on your face, telling her you would have taken their ordinations.

“Ah it’s been a lot of time, indeed!” you smirked lightly “… I always see you in TV!”.

“… sadly, never winning” muttered Hvitserk “… we weren’t expecting to see you working here!”.

“And I wasn’t expecting you to greet me without your mouth full of food, so we are both surprised by how Destiny has cheated us” you joked back, smirking lightly “… it’s nice to see you, guys, but I haven’t much time”.

Although you were trying to be gentle, it was obvious that their presence was making you nervous and uncomfortable.

Ivar wondered whether it was for what had happened with him.

He couldn’t help but notice the way you avoided any eye-contact with him.

They all quickly gave you their orders and you thanked them, but before you could go away, again Sigurd grabbed your wrist, making Ivar hiss lightly.

“You have been greatly missed, (Y/N)” the simple affirmation seemed to break something in you and you were able to simply bow your head, as you moved to quickly report the order to the counter, before disappearing in the kitchen.

A quick sign that you didn’t reciprocate Sigurd’s thought.

“Well that didn’t go well…” muttered Hvitserk, going back to his food.

“It was strange” muttered Ubbe “… it’s strange… I expected her to be in Europe, she was always so brilliant”.

“Ubbe, what she does is none of your business” muttered Sigurd, for once, his words matching Ivar’s thoughts.

“I just… I mean… she doesn’t seem as the person who is stuck at 21st to serve tables, she was always smarter than that” mumbled Ubbe, again but shushed, as an elder woman brought them their meals.

“You know our sweet (Y/N)?” she asked, probably having witnessed the exchange of words, and Sigurd explained they were old schoolmates “… such a sweetheart, and so strong…”.

“Anything bad happened?” asked curiously Ivar, knowing all too well when to ask and when to stay quiet, and that woman seemed like she wanted so desperately to talk.

“Nothing too bad” mumbled the old lady, pouring some coffee in their glasses “… just… she is so strong for bringing a child on her own”.

The news immediately surprised all the brothers.

Again, you were the smart and hardworking girl, the one that followed the rules and didn’t have any vices, so for you to have a child, so young, didn’t make sense.

You should have been attending the last year of college, hadn’t you already finished it.

The thought of knowing you were already a mom, completely shocked Ivar.

And, although he wouldn’t admit it, he felt jealous at the thought of another man having known you so carnally.

“… oh, we didn’t know” uttered Ubbe “We have lost the contacts, when we moved in another city, after high school ended”.

“If you want, I can tell her that you’d like to get acquainted again” mumbled softly the waitress, probably thinking she was doing something good, something that would have made you happy.

But from the simple thought of your forced smile, a few minutes before, you wouldn’t have been happy in the slightest of meeting them.

And Ivar couldn’t make it a fault to you.

“She is working, we wouldn’t want to bother her or get in trouble, we are going to try to maybe contact her through the socials, but it was good to see her” commented softly Sigurd, smirking gently at the elder waitress, who simply nodded before muttering something under her breath ‘about the usefulness of social’.

As she moved away a deep silence fell onto their tables.

“I didn’t… wow… she never told me” muttered extremely baffled Sigurd.

“Did you stay in contact with her after we moved?” replied harshly Ivar and as Sigurd shook his head “… well then you can’t blame her for having hidden this to you”.

They had obviously lost any right to you, after ‘the dare’.

He, himself, couldn’t blame you.

“…can’t believe it” muttered Ubbe, sipping slowly his coffee, meanwhile Hvitserk nodded.

“Accidents happen, don’t they?” muttered Sigurd. before he proceeded to move their attention away from the thought, although Ivar’s mind was stuck onto that news.

Had you searched the attention of another person, because he had rejected you?

No, you had always been stronger than you seemed.

You wouldn’t have simply searched somebody to feel some love.

You had had to have loved the father of your child.

And the sole thought of it burned his chest painfully.

* * *

You were on the last shift of the day, and although usually you were almost happy for the extra tips which would come, this time you would have given everything to change your shift or close early.

It had started as a nice day: Erik’s bones were strengthening themselves from the therapy he had been doing and he had been excited for the soccer training of that afternoon.

Your mother had been also extremely happy to accompany ‘her favorite grandson’: she had been rather blue after your father had left you, both.

Thankfully he had left your family but not the house and the little money your mother had on her own, which had funded your move from the small city to a bigger one.

Sometimes you wondered how much your pregnancy and Erik’s sickness had impacted on your father leaving, but you tried not to think about it.

He hadn’t been held at gun point, he had chosen to leave a faithful wife, a devoted daughter and a wonderful grandchild.

You, yourself, had walked at work happy, thinking about the fact that you had also managed to schedule a meeting with an art gallery.

Through the five years you had been working on improving your culture, although you hadn’t been able to attend college, you had attended some free courses and apparently they were looking for some people to explain the art gallery’s shows, hence you had proposed yourself.

Although you knew there would be many more talented people also attending it, but… you hadn’t felt like giving up.

If you got the job, you might have had to quit one of your many jobs and spend more time with Erik, alongside paying for some new therapies.

Then you had seen the Lothbrocks at one of the tables.

And you had been glad of having met again Sigurd: you sometimes would see some of his performances at lower TV channels, and always joked with Erik about his songs.

Ubbe and Hvitserk had been indifferent to you and you had kept up the same behavior.

But Ivar…

… part of you was worried about him finding out about Erik, solely from your thought.

Back in the day, he used to be extremely intuitive.

And part of you couldn’t help but feel the pain of rejection all over again.

You had tried to find an excuse to avoid them, after the first little chat, although you were aware they would be talking about it: the small town from which you had come from had talked since you had shown Erik to it.

‘She used to be such a good girl’.

‘She used to have such a bright future ahead of her’.

‘She could have been so successful…’.

Blah blah blah.

Although you would discourage people from getting pregnant at such a young age, you didn’t feel like you had lost anything, maybe just pushed it a bit in the future, but you, yourself, had gotten through your own prejudices of being a single and younger mom.

You might have lost something, but your child was a blessing in your life.

So, you just shook off the critics.

You were waiting at the cash desk, chatting amicably with the cook of the diner, the one who made the last turn with you, always having the kind heart of packing something for you, and leaving some sweets for Erik, slowly gaining a little spot in your family, as ‘uncle Will’.

You were also checking the situation at the Lothbrock table, because, whereas all the other clients had already paid or were going to do it soon, they were stalling.

Their meals were finished, and they were chatting, although there would be more silence than actual words, and when you had sent Marlou to ask if they wanted a dessert or more coffee, they had simply replied that they were full.

They were obviously waiting and deciding who had to pay for the meal, who had to come face to face with you.

You almost expected them to start playing ‘paper, rock and scissors’ but finally you heard the distinctive screech of one of the chairs moving, but as you raised your head to see whoever had finally managed to collect their courage ‘to battle you’, you couldn’t help but be a bit nervous to discover it was Ivar.

He looked a bit annoyed, as if he had expected somebody else to volunteer at his courageous attempt, but nobody did and you immediately shut your eyes onto the screen of the cash machine, finding their bill, so that you wouldn’t have to talk with him too much.

He, instead, seemed a bit chatty, although he had that painfully awkward smile in his face he had whenever he was nervous about doing something.

Back in the day when you were together you would rub onto the back of his hand if you were in public to let him know your support, or when you were alone, you would body-hug-attack him.

But those memories seemed so long ago.

“It has passed quite some time” he mumbled softly, trying to chat you up, but you had no interest in conversing with him.

‘I see it on my child’s face’ you wanted to mutter, but again: you couldn’t make Ivar discover about Erik.

At first it had been a petty thought of your broken heart, but the more Erik grew the more you were scared that Ivar knowing of him would take him away from you.

It was irrational, but sometimes you would check out on your child.

You would do it also that night.

“Quite some time, indeed” you shot back, telling him the total and asking whether he would be paying in cash or not.

Ivar seemed a bit taken aback by the coldness in your tone, but reacted to it better than he was used, hiding his pain at your harshness, as he told you he would be paying in cash, keeping up the entire rest of the transaction in silence, meanwhile you opened the cash collected the money, counting it discreetly, printed the receipt.

He tried to do one last attempt.

“… we should come all together one of these days”.

More like hell no.

But you didn’t reject the proposal completely.

“It would be nice” Ivar’s face seemed to regain a bit of color at that affirmation “I am just a lot busy with work, but I’ll see what I can do”.

And with that you passed him the receipt and wished him a good day, turning to the kitchen to fake an emergency there, whereas Will was simply packing you the leftovers which would be your dinner.

You waited there, spying on Ivar, seeing him for the first time in five years properly: he dressed as the industrial magnate he was rumored to become in a few years, expanding his father’s properties, but he didn’t have the face of an happy magnate.

At least Destiny hadn’t given him that.

He indulged a bit on his feet, and pushed a few dollar bills into the tips bucket, something that low key opened a bit your heart to him but didn’t make you feel any less convinced about hiding him from Erik.

You closed the shop alongside Marlou, who continued on commenting about how ‘gorgeous were your school friends’.

‘They were all so handsome! Ahh what a lucky family!’.

‘They could have been your children!’ you had retorted almost receiving an elbow in your stomach from the woman, as she muttered that ‘at least it would have been better than Karl’, her thirty something unemployed son with a permanent place on her sofa.

After you had wished her ‘goodnight’, you had walked till your apartment, rushing a bit both because seeing Lothbrocks had surprised you and both because you couldn’t wait to see again Eric, who had stayed the day with your mom, waiting simply for you at home to tell you all about his day.

No matter how tired or shaken you were, your son’s smile never failed to make you feel a bit better.


	2. The Story Of How He Found Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn’t coincidence anymore when Destiny is trying its best to push you together, even exposing your ‘small secret’ to Ivar.

Ivar had a hate-love relationship with taking care of his nephew and niece.

He certainly hated being waken up at 8 p.m. on a luxurious Saturday morning just to babysit his brother’s children, meanwhile he and Torvi went ‘shopping for the newest arrival’, which meant they would probably screw around the entire day.

But he loved the way his niece and nephew’s eyes would light up softly as they came to him, immediately almost tackling him to a ground in a way that made him want children of his own.

Had he ever been able to have one…

Freydis hadn’t been there when the call had arrived.

He remembered she had to go through some treatments and although he had insisted to go with her, she hadn’t wanted him.

‘It’s just… womanly things… I would feel more comfortable going alone’ and he had immediately respected the wishes of his goddess.

So, in the end, he was extremely grateful for the children’s company who had convinced him to drive to another park from the one near his house, because… ‘this one was better, uncle Iv’.

He drove there and let the children quickly spatter themselves around, after they had both thanked him with a quick kiss, keeping an eye on them, not wanting to let them wander too far away:.

Once Hvitserk had been tasked with the ‘babysitting’ since Ivar was busy with some medical visits and he had come back home without the children.

Thankfully the McDonald’s employees had called Torvi and Ubbe immediately, after they had found their children in the fast food restaurant …

He got his phone out, since he thoroughly hated to acknowledge the stares people always sent his way when this happene.

Some would eye him as if they were worried he would grab their children and run, but the actual worst was when they would stare at him with soft pity in their eyes.

So, he preferred to check his phone, shooting a small look at the children who were running freely, around the small park, over the slide and in the little sand box.

And then he saw you.

You weren’t in your job uniform, a loose sweatshirt and a pair of skinny and worn out jeans with some rips on the knees, the entire outfit completed by a pair of dirtied sneakers.

Your hair was in an high ponytail as your eyes sprinkled over the park.

He didn’t know how you could be so fascinating even in that ‘worn out’ mise, but as you turned lightly to him, he was finally able to understand why: your smile was the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and almost attracted by it, he got up and moved to you.

He didn’t know why he did it, but he just felt like seeing you closer, discovering that you hadn’t lost the little moles under your nose and your nails were still painted of the brightest colors, after all this time.

You also hadn’t lost the lovely curves you always had owned, but they fell in a different and more mature way now.

He stopped staring at them as you raised your face meeting his gaze.

And immediately that smile disappeared from your face.

And Ivar didn’t know what to say.

His curiosity had gotten the best of him, but now that he was in front of her, he didn’t know what to do.

So, he went with kindness.

“… hey” it was a weak mumble, but it was all he could utter, as you shieded away your gaze from him, definitely nervous and at unease “… I swear I am not stalking you!”.

“Are you sure, Ivar Lothbrock?” the way you taunted him with his name and his surname made a shiver appear on his back, as it moved down its spine disappearing under his skin “… we haven’t met each other in five years and then suddenly… we met each other two days in a row?”.

“… well that might indeed make you doubtful, but I come bearing good intentions” he prompted immediately, raising his hands and a small laugh came onto your face “Maybe you should take it as a sign that we need to seriously take that coffee, one day”.

“Too busy” you tutted lightly as you shook your head, your small smile becoming algid cold and he knew better than to insist, although his body wanted nothing more than to meet you again.

But he just didn’t understand this impulse.

Why, most of all, it happened when he was happily tying the knot with his lovely fiancée?

He was even trying for a child, undergoing hours and hours of physical and psychological therapy.

Still, how did they say?

You could never forget your first love.

“… I know that we didn’t leave on the happiest note” he mumbled not even truly knowing why he was saying that, although he had wanted to tell you this right after the aching confession on that diner that damned day “… but I missed you”.

The revelation shook you, enough that you weren’t able to properly hide your thoughts and surprise, shown with the way you moved your eyes away from his, not facing him but unable to close your mouth in a stern expression, as your hands were clutched together tight.

“… I… “ he was ready for the worst of insults, maybe a small ‘I missed you, too’, although it wouldn’t have been in your personality, but he certainly hadn’t expected a small child moving towards them, or better… crawling towards them.

“Mommy, mommy!” he called out softly as he moved towards you, adjusting his shirt, a bit dirtied by the wet ground of the park, but he didn’t seem to care, shooting you a beautiful smile, the ones that only children had “… can we stay a bit longer?”.

And if the crawling hadn’t already put him on guard as the child raised his head, he showed him the same blue eyes he saw each day in the mirror.

He shot you a look, as you immediately shrank away from him, moving towards the child as you helped him up, easing him onto the light braces you had in a small fabric bag beside you, Ivar hadn’t noticed.

You helped the child in them expertly, as he continued on pleading on staying more but you were a woman on a mission.

And Ivar was a man glued on the ground beneath his feet.

“Eric, sweetheart, we promised that we would have had lunch with grandma and you also need a bath” your tone was sweet but stern, but it wasn’t tender because of his situation, but more because of a motherly instinct.

As the baby has his braces again, he was able to stand upright and he turned to Ivar, almost asking for some help with his mother, but as he did so, he realized that Ivar wore similar braces the search of pity became surprise.

“Mom, mom! He is like me!” there was no intention to shame him, but simple childish naivety and joyful happiness, but you immediately turned away from Ivar, and shot him one last look, as the big burly man not only found him stuck on the ground, but also speechless.

“It was nice meeting you Ivar, but I hope that you won’t found me again”.

And like that, you were gone.

With what looked like his child.

* * *

You weren’t able to properly feel safe till you heard the door slamming as Eric complained lightly about ‘wanting to play more’.

Your mother appeared from the kitchen, her hair still damp from the shower she had had.

To try to help you and Eric she had taken a small job at the florist shop near your house: she had always loved plants and flowers so she actually enjoyed working there, and sometimes would bring small plants home to ‘brighten the mood’.

“Eric, (Y/N)?” she looked at you weirded out by your early return: usually Saturday you would go out with Eric and then stay there till lunch time, to work the rest of the afternoon at the diner, having the night off for your small bartender job “… you are early”.

“It’s mom’s fault!” complained Eric, whenever he would do that he would resemble Ivar very much, making you almost want to raise your voice at the small boy, but you tried to calm yourself well aware that he didn’t know that you had done this to protect him “.. and there was a man like me at the park, today, grandma!”.

“Eric, go take a bath” you put more sternness than you should have in your tone, regretting it as the boy stumped his way to the bath and mother sent you a worried look, but you waited for the shower water to run before you answered your mother’s non-verbal question.

“I saw Ivar at the park, this morning” you mumbled and your mother immediately came closer to you, as you slowly slumped onto the sofa “… I had seen him yesterday, already, but I… thought it was a coincidence”.

You felt panic washing through you as you tried to breath deeper in order to regain some kind of control over your body, which was trembling horrendously.

“… sweetheart… did he see Eric?” your mother tried to bring some order to your chaotic mind as you tried to adjust yourself in a more comfortable position.

“Yes, he did”.

And then came the realization that Ivar now knew about your child.

“Baby of mine, don’t panic” he mumbled softly, as she tightened her grip around you, drawing relaxing circles onto your back “… he might not…”.

“Mom he is a cripple, but he isn’t stupid!” you shouted, immediately covering your mouth with an hand to stop the horrid sound from leaving your mouth, worried about Eric hearing you “… I am worried… what if he… comes here? What if…?”.

“He has no right to him” your mother spoke with confidence “… he broke up with you, he didn’t have the right to know there and he doesn’t now, don’t forget it”.

“He is rich, mom, he might… he might get Eric…” Gosh you couldn’t even think about the possibility of Ivar coming for Eric.

Although he had admitted, back then, he never wanted children, you had seen the look on his face as he had taken in Eric, realizing it was his.

You were worried.

“Don’t worry your pretty head, (Y/N)” she hugged you tighter as she tightened the hug “… it is your child, it isn’t his”.

“I can’t live without Eric” you uttered lightly as she softly cooed in your neck to help you calm yourself down “… I don’t know what I would do without him…”.

“… then it won’t happen” she gave you a comforting pat “… don’t think about things that haven’t happened yet”.

“Mom, I…” you didn’t know what to say anymore, the anxiety slowly burning through you “… I know, thank you”.

“Nothing to thank, sweetie, it’s my job” Eric appeared on the threshold of the kitchen, the towel almost making him trip on his own feet “… and our little man might need a bit of help”.

Helping Eric made you calm down a bit, as the little boy told you all about the fact that he had been able to get himself up the small castle stairs by himself all alone.

‘Coach Broadwick, said that I need big hands if I want to be a goalie!” he squealed as you brushed his hair together to dry them faster ‘… grandpa would have been proud, wouldn’t he?”.

“Of-super-course, sweetie!” you smiled at him softly, before you proceeded to smack his entire faces with kisses, as you helped him put his shirt, your mother called you both out for lunch “… let’s see what grandma made for us”.

As you turned, thinking that you had closed the Ivar’s debating, he muttered:

“Did you know the man that was like me, mom?”.

Although you had vowed to avoid lying to you child, you wished you could do it this time, with a light heart.

“He was an old friend” you muttered your tone so quiet that even Eric seemed to understand that it was better not to ask for more “… now we better hurry or grandma’s delicious lunch will be cold!”.

And Eric seemed to finally relax himself, forgetting all about that man.

And you hoped Ivar had done the same.

* * *

Ivar wasn’t able to simply forget the sight he had seen at the park.

You and a child.

His child.

Because it was either that or you had a fetish for fucking crippled men.

He didn’t know what to do, immediately choosing to leave the kid to their respective parents since he felt like he was slowly spiraling through what looked like’ memory lane’.

He excused his action with Ubbe, justifying it as Freydis needing a hand at the fertility clinic and his brother didn’t say anything simply asking whether he could do something more.

‘Let me know if I can do something for you’ had replied weakly Ubbe, not a true offer.

He couldn’t help him with what he needed.

But somebody else could.

He stumbled all the way to Heahmund’s apartment, an elegant loft which matched perfectly the personality of the distinguished lawyer.

Who was fucking a girl onto the table of his kitchen.

Ivar simply coughed to let his presence known and the girl immediately almost stumbled away from the kitchen, Heahmund’s cock sloppily leaving her, as she fell onto the ground, her knees weak for the amazing sex.

“What the fuck, Ivar?!” instead shouted Heahmund, annoyed and angered, it wasn’t the first time it had happened and he seemed almost used to it, retrieving his boxers from the ground “… it is fucking Saturday morning”.

“… I had the need of a professional consult” he simply replied, muttering lightly as Heahmund pushed his shirt onto the poor girl, barely able to calm herself, but glad for the shirt.

“Fucking come back Monday” the girl sneaked to the bedroom, probably to retrieve her clothes.

“It’s urgent”.

“How can it be so fucking urgent to disrupt my lovely Saturday morning?” replied immediately Heahmund, pushing a hand through his hair shaking them lightly.

“I have son” muttered Ivar and Heahmund promptly stopped what he was doing.

“… no, you fucking don’t, son of a bitch of a cripple” shouted back Heahmud, coming towards him in a threatening way “… you told you couldn’t get your cock up!”.

Once the company had gone pretty well and they had gone out to party: it turned out that Ivar was a sad drunk and had dunked onto Heahmund is entire family’s history.

“… I could… once” he couldn’t still believe it “… she was an old school sweetheart, it was my first time”.

And yours.

He remembered the way your face had morphed in pain and the blood that had coated the sheets of your bed, the way you had rushed to hide them, obliging Ivar to throw them.

‘Please my parents will fucking get angry with me if they found out I had sex!’.

How pissed had they been when they discovered you were carrying a child?

“What you are telling me… is that, my friend, who constantly complains he can’t get it up, once did?” and before Ivar could glare at him a skeptic look “… and had a fucking child? How fucking low are the chances to get pregnant on your first try?”.

“The gods love me” replied Ivar, a smug smirk on his face, although he didn’t understand why.

“No no, God fucking hates you” mumbled Heahmund as he sat onto his sofa, meanwhile Ivar moved onto the farthest armchair, checking it for any body fluids “… and how did you discover?”.

“I met her in a park, and she had her child with her” Heahmund was the one to send him a skeptical look this time “… he had braces, like me… I know he is my child Heahmund”.

“And you believe that because he had braces, he might be your son?”.

Ok, honestly that sounded creepy.

“… Heahmund, the timing is perfect, and the braces aren’t simply there for show, he fucking has osteogenesis imperfecta!”.

“Then why don’t you go to her house and talk with her about this?” shout back the lawyer, making Ivar still on the spot.

He had seen the way you had shrank away from him as he had taken in your son.

You had hidden him from Ivar, willingly.

He was sure.

Hence, he couldn’t just barge in your house and ask for explanations.

“… she hasn’t simply forgotten to notify me the fact that she was pregnant, Heahmund, she hid it willingly” and then he felt like he had to share what had happened in that diner, not so long ago “… I broke up with her a few weeks after we had… we did the deed… it wasn’t anything serious… my brothers had dared me to do it, since they said we were too clingy… and I… I would have cleared the entire thing the following day…”.

“That is a truly enlightening lesson on toxic masculinity believe me” humored him Heahmund, as he adjusted on the sofa “I’d say she has her reasons to make you stay away and I… don’t understand your need to meet her and the son… look at you: you are successful, you have a beautiful soon-to-be-wife and you are trying for a child”.

But he couldn’t just simply shake off his son’s eyes.

The joy in them, the way you had naturally acted with him that honestly had brought a smile onto Ivar’s face.

It wasn’t easy to simply forget about this.

“She works as a waitress” Heahmund gave him a simply skeptic nod as if to say ‘what about it’ “… what if she can’t take care of my child? What if she has money troubles?”.

“I’d avoid saying that to her face… women don’t take easily words like that”.

“I just want to try to make this right”.

Something in Ivar’s tone got the best of Heahmund, who huffed annoyed, but replied.

“… we take the law outside of it for a bit, or you are going to scare her… try to set up a meeting with her and talk about the child, make sure that you tell her you are doing this for the child’s wellness”.

“Ok” that sounded reasonable and he could check out the diner he had gone to yesterday to try to talk to you: at work you certainly wouldn’t have thrown a fit “… and this goes unsaid, but… don’t utter a word to Freydis”.

“… my lips are sealed” and then eyeing the almost dressed woman he was just fucking on his kitchen table a few minutes before, he muttered hungrily smiling at her “… but now I have business to attend to”.

* * *

Lunch with Eric and your mother had eased your nerves although you were still nervous about Ivar.

But working helped you ease the stress, keeping your mind busy, as you scurried around the tables, thinking that not only you were covering the afternoon shift, but you would be working till midnight at a nearby bar.

And then, you saw Ivar.

He was sat onto one of the table, and not only you almost stumbled onto one of your fellow coworkers, but you were sure that you were having hallucinations, till Ivar got up, catching your gaze onto him.

And then he moved towards you.

And you run your way out back in the kitchen, an amazing idea, had Will been there.

But the kitchen was empty, since Will had moved onto the bar stool to chat amicably with Mrs. Innbitt, a nice older woman who had lost her husband a few years ago and would try every receipt Will would give her.

You were just able to steal a small look at the barstool, because as you turned Ivar was upon you.

You let out a shocked screech, immediately shutting yourself with a hand onto your mouth, hoping you hadn’t alerted anybody, although you definitely felt uneasy.

Not only Ivar was closer to you than it was healthy, but it immediately brought you back to the child discourse.

“… now you are officially stalking me” you mumbled, as he backed away quickly, immediately understanding your discomfort.

“Maybe I am doing it because you hid my son for five years” he replied, shocking you enough that you were the one to take a step back, stumbling onto a small table with flour on it, your hands absorbing it, staining them white.

“It isn’t your son” it wasn’t a proper defense, but it was all you had in mind.

“… oh, then you have a fetish for cripples” this time it was Ivar who had raised his voice and you gave him a hateful glare, being the one to tell him to ‘kindly fucking lower his voice’.

“What the fuck, Ivar?” and now it was all rage “… you come back five years and expect everything to fall on its place?!”.

“… I would have expected you to tell me, at least, that you were pregnant with my child”.

Although he hadn’t screamed, his words hurt you even more, and you shrank in yourself, as your legs lightly trembled.

“… it isn’t your child” you were simply able to utter, as he simply shook his head.

“(Y/N) don’t treat me like an idiot” he stammered, and in his tone you could almost feel the Ivar you had known, begging desperately to be allowed to show his worth “… the kid… he is like me, I have seen myself enough times in the mirror to know what ‘osteogenesis’ is like”.

“He is my child, solely mine” you muttered, grabbing onto the table, as you dug your fingers in it “… you are simply a sperm donor”.

Ivar seemed taken aback and the young Ivar you had seen in his look quickly disappeared.

“… that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t be part of his life, (Y/N)”.

You hated the way his name sounded in his mouth.

Because it sounded like the only way it was pronounced.

“No, I chose what is and isn’t part of his life” you shouted back, although you were well aware you must have sounded like a dictator.

Ivar seemed taken aback from your anger: you had never been like that with him, but you had certainly grown up so he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

He took a big breath to collect himself.

And then spoke.

“…I know, but I also know what it means for a child to grow up without a father” he spoke, each word slowed down to represent its meaning “… don’t let him become me”.

“That’s what I am doing and that is why I don’t want you near him”.

“Then I don’t think there are other solutions” he looked at you in the eyes “… I do think that I’ll have my lawyers know…”.

That was your worst nightmare.

Your eyes froze onto him and your hands moved on their own onto his arms, surprising you and him, as you immediately retreated, but you still saw Ivar’s nostalgy in his eyes.

“… please don’t”.

You wouldn’t have enough money to support yourself and Eric’s health, paying for a lawyer and battles for the custody of a child were long and tiring.

“… then give me a chance!” Ivar sounded sincere, almost desperate in his attempt to meet your son “… I am not asking for him to become my son, just… I want to know him”.

Something broke inside of you.

But you couldn’t surrender so quickly.

“… what made you change your mind?” you asked him, bringing yourself to look at him in the eyes, in order for him not to lie to your face “… about children… you didn’t want to have them, back then…”.

“I…” he seemed not to know it he, himself “… me and my fiancée are trying for a child…”.

“He won’t be your surrogate child or a training dummie” you immediately spoke out, your tone stern but not broken “… he is a child, and if you want him to be… if you want to…”.

“I know this isn’t easy to accept” his tone was strangely soothing “… but I don’t mean to hurt him”.

“… you better” you took a deep breath, getting away from the table “… I am thinking about this… I’ll give you an answer before next Saturday”.

He seemed baffled by the fact that you were attempting to take time but allowed you with a small nod.

“… I’ll leave you my number” he simply mumbled, as you moved out of the kitchen.

Dread was setting on your stomach in that moment, but strangely you stole one last look at Ivar who was searching his card in his wallet, being able to stare at him without him noticing.

He had certainly changed in all the ways that heightened his figure, bringing him to gain muscles, but his expression had remained the same shadowed and grumpy, in a way that got your heart to gently shudder at that sight.

But you immediately turned as Ivar found the card and moved towards you, limping in that way that he hated but to you it was as familiar as if a day hadn’t passed since you had first met him.

And fell in love with him.

“I’ll call you” you mumbled, taking the card and he tried to smile at you, but worry still shone on his face, and although he hadn’t a reason to want your child to be also his, he… seemed to want it…

… desperately.

“I hope you do” he mumbled, before walking away and turning one last time, effectively surprising “… can I… can I at least know his name?”.

“Eric” you should have avoided saying it, not wanting Ivar to find him, God only knew what that cunning shit could do.

But he simply seemed out of his wits, amazed by the name.

“It’s a good name”.

* * *

You had named your child Eric, a typical Norse name, meaning ‘ever ruler’.

It couldn’t simply be a coincidence.

It meant something.

You still had somehow a respect for Ivar in naming the child that way, which could show that, although you had been truly cold-hearted with him, you still… latched onto him.

As he did with you.

The memories and the desire to be closer intensifying as the memory of your child came to replay in his mind.

Eric had his eyes, but he had your smile, open and careless, in a way that made him carefree and frail.

He wondered whether he wouldn’t fall asleep at night because his legs hurt too much.

He certainly had back then.

If his braces were comfortable enough.

If you kissed him on the forehead as Aslaugh always did with him.

If being a parent meant worrying, he certainly was on the right way.

He fell onto the bed, completely exhausted, as he tried to kick off his unlaced boots, a message on his phone shining to show a message from Heahmund.

‘How did it go, baby daddy?’.

He was barely able to unlock his phone before he felt the telltale rummaging of keys against metal signaling that Freydis had come home and he made sure to lock his phone, pushing it into the first drawer of his bedside table, as he adjusted onto the bed, stretching himself and pushing the braces off the bed, knowing it pissed off Freydis to find them there.

“I am home!” she giggled gently and any trouble he might be having was washed away from his mind, as he tried to reign himself away from the memory of Eric and (Y/N).

“I am glad you are” he mumbled softly, as she dropped her bags in the kitchen, got a small drink from the orange juice cardboard, as she always did after the long session of hormones and other therapies “… I am in the bedroom”.

She immediately joined him, her heeled shoes already off, as she discarded her coat and jacket, revealing an elegant white blouse, showing her small curves, matched perfectly with a black skirt, the image of the elegant businesswoman.

And although she was irresistible, his mind went back to you in a comfortable hoodie and worn out sneakers.

Which wasn’t good.

“… how did your day go?” she asked, as he moved onto the bed, a bit far away from him to get off her stockings.

“Ahem…” ‘I have solely discovered that my high school sweetheart has had a child with me’ “…it was nice… what about you?”.

He tried to shift the attention, grateful that the hormonal cures made her tired and sleepy.

“… as always tiring” she mumbled, moving lightly towards him, a few buttons of her blouse coming undone in a naïve provocation “… but I am glad, the doctors are saying that it’s improving!”.

“Oh, that is nice” he says without thinking too much about it “… have they told you something about me?”.

He grimaced when Freydis nodded her head, but was immediately comforted as she grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly.

“… the usual hour, next week” she mumbled gently, rubbing her thumb onto the back of his hand, in a gesture that used to be soothingly alluring for him, but now he couldn’t help but feeling like she was rubbing piece of coarse paper against it “… I know it isn’t easy for you, but… I appreciate it Ivar, you are working for our future”.

He had never wanted to have children till Freydis had come in the picture.

He still didn’t know why he wanted them maybe it was the desperate need for something to leave behind and Freydis’ love for them.

Their relationship had definitely moved faster than it was conventionally approved, but he hadn’t minded it.

He had never had somebody who had cared for him, so when Freydis had come in the picture, so gentle and sweet, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from falling in love with her, to the point that she could ask for the moon and he would have given it to her.

He hadn’t been in love like this with you, it wasn’t this intense and maddening, it had been low and timid, in the shy way all high school crushes were born.

But it still haunted him to these days.

“… Ivar” called him Freydis and he immediately turned to her, with a questioning look “… you haven’t heard anything I said, have you?”.

“I am sorry, I just have a bit of… I am just tired”.

“So, am I” shot back gently Freydis, stirring herself so that she could make her body come closer to him, pushing her hand into his “… let’s just go to bed, and talk about all of this tomorrow”.

He nodded, adjusting himself on his side.

“Goodnight, love”.

He couldn’t help but feel more relaxed because of this, but the last image that laid in front of him was Eric grabbing your hand, as you ran away from him.

“Goodnight, Ivar”.

He wondered, at last, if you had wished Eric ‘goodnight’.

* * *

The entire week had been pretty tough on you.

But what was worse was the fact that Eric had realized your bad mood pretty quickly, even going as far as asking you on Sunday, before leaving for your job, if you were angry with him.

‘No no, sweetie’ you had tucked his hair behind his ears, gently kissing his forehead ‘… I am just a bit busy with some things’.

‘… need my help?’ had asked the little boy, making you smile sadly at him.

‘You already give me too much help, sweetie, just think about your soccer match!’ you had then ruffled his hair but sent a meaningful look at his mother.

Please don’t let him know of everything that has been going on.

You either found out a way to pay your lawyer or you would have to let Ivar see your child.

You hadn’t met him in five years, so you didn’t trust him, in the slightest.

Your mother, although she would have supported any decision you would have taken, insisted that you tried to mend the relationship with Ivar, even more after she had heard about his suggestion of helping you financially.

‘Mom I am not going to let him control me with money! He can’t buy his son back from me!’.

You had almost felt insulted by her proposal.

‘… but (Y/N) think about this attentively: he might help us with Eric’s cures, don’t do it for him but do it for your child’.

‘I can take care of my child’ you had retorted, and your mother had eventually dropped the argument.

Now it was Wednesday night, you had checked Eric’s homework and were getting ready for your first trial at the art gallery, worrying lightly due to your mother’s absence.

She had promised you she would take care of Eric, meanwhile you were out.

It was strange she still wasn’t back there, and when it came to an hour before the entire thing you tried calling her, worried both about work and her as Eric finished his dinner, watching the latest Avenger movie.

You hadn’t been able to get in contact with your mother till fifteen minutes had passed, and when she had answered you the situation had worsened.

‘(Y/N)… I was at the theatre, what are you calling me for?’.

“Mom you should have… you were supposed to be babysitting Eric, meanwhile I was on the trial thing at the gallery!” you remembered her, trying to understand what to do, since your mother was clearly unavailable for the evening.

You tried to remember the name of the babysitters you liked, immediately running their numbers in your memory

“… (Y/N) no you didn’t tell me, I am sure…” you huffed out loudly “… don’t huff at me young lady! It wasn’t written in the timetable!”.

And to your horror, as you moved to check, you found out you hadn’t written it, probably for the fact you were too taken by your inner turmoil and indecision about Ivar.

“… I am coming back immediately, but it’ll take me an hour, sweetie, I have to wait for Marissa!”.

You had thought, as you rushed because it was missing simply half an hour to your interview, it would be simple.

But it wasn’t… in the slightest.

Half of the babysitters weren’t available, and the other ones didn’t babysit anymore.

You didn’t trust your neighbors enough to put Eric in their hands, but the list was running short and you would be running late.

This honestly terrified you extremely aware that the job might be an amazing offer to help you take less works and stay more with Eric earning better, but you couldn’t just leave Eric alone.

The thing was starting to become low key nerve-wrecking for you, because although you loved your role as a mother, you had loved the thought of going back into a place where you wouldn’t be serving plates and calming drunkards.

You couldn’t believe that you were ruining completely that chance for you.

Then your phone buzzed again, an unknown number and you answered thinking that maybe it was one of the babysitters’ friends.

But as you picked up the call you were surprised.

“Hello, (Y/N)” Ivar’s voice was pretty hoarse through the phone “… your mother has called me”.

You almost cursed, stopping yourself a you realized that Eric was in the room.

“… what do you want, Ivar? It isn’t Sunday yet!”.

“Your mother talked about you having need of a babysitter” he ignored your indignant tone.

“No no, don’t worry I solved it” you replied, almost slamming the ‘end call’ button.

“(Y/N) I can come, I am nearby, I don’t have a trouble…”.

“Ivar this isn’t… this isn’t…” Gosh you didn’t know what to say.

Certainly, you were still wary about the thought of actually letting your son meet up Ivar, but it was a solution to a problem that was tormenting your body, enough to make you tremble.

“This isn’t an official meet up, you can give me every rule you want, I can also just stay silent for the entire night, I just…” and he took a deep breath, it was evident that he was both hopeful and stubborn and there was a desperation in his voice that froze you “… I just want to help you”.

You thought about it: you either gave up the chance for which you had been working so hard and which wouldn’t come back or you allowed the father of your child to see him, which was an alternative that scared you in a way that was completely irrational.

“I…” you didn’t know, you didn’t know what to do, but then took a small look at Eric, trying ‘discreetly’ to listen onto your conversation, and as you met those beautiful blue eyes… you were just frozen on the spot, and answered with a lower tone “… you can come, but you are not his father, you a friend of mine”.

“Thank you, (Y/N)” his tone was almost moved, and you tried to stop yourself from matching his.

“My mother will come in an hour, all you have to do is check that Eric take his medicines and gets in bed, without breaking any bones”.

“I know the drill, believe me” his voice was more joyful than sarcastic which was strange “… I am going to take care of him”.

“You better” you mumbled biting on your tongue “… this is your chance to prove me that you are worthy to be part of my child’s life, you better not fuck it up”.

* * *

As he had arrived you were in a black attire, a small little back outfit on you and although he was well aware it wasn’t as expensive as the ones Freydis wore, it certainly did the best it could for your figure.

He had tried his best not to stare at you, meanwhile you explained him the rules: no sugar, no movies, Eric just had to take his medicines and be in bed, he could play a bit and maybe read to develop his abilities, but he needed to be in bed for when your mother came back.

Eric, for the entire time, had remained in his room, although the door was open and Ivar had tried to take a few looks at the child, trying to see if his memory remembered him properly.

‘… Ivar I am trusting you with the most precious thing in my life, please… don’t…’.

‘I am not an idiot, (Y/N), you should know it better than anyone’ the sharpness of his tone had made you shudder lightly but you had hidden it, simply smirking at him one last way, calling Eric over, and kneeling at his side.

‘Sweetie, mommy is going to work tonight but grannie will soon be back, in the meanwhile you’ll stay with my friend, Ivar, the one from the park’ you explained to him gently, as you adjusted his cute hoodie.

‘The one like me?’ wondered aloud the boy, immediately moving to look at Ivar’s legs and crutches ‘… hi I am Eric’.

And he had shot out his hand to Ivar, leaving him confused, meanwhile you sent him a small nod, as if to allow him that grip.

‘Ivar’ he muttered, although he tried to brighten his tone with a small smile, but Eric didn’t seem to notice it, instead checking out his braces ‘… I like your braces, buddy’.

‘Ohhh, mommy got them solely for me!’ he explained enthusiastically, before he shout out a small leg to show him that at the end there were some stickers of the Avengers, meanwhile and… rather sarcastically a few of ‘The Flash’ ‘They are cool, aren’t they?’.

‘Super-duper’ he spoke, before shooting a reassuring look at (Y/N) ‘I think that we will be alright, you can go’.

‘Mommy is going to miss you’ you simply replied, not looking at Ivar and kissing the small man, who immediately washed away the kiss, faking of being ashamed.

At least him and the little man had something similar.

“Please don’t…” you spoke, one last time grabbing your coat.

“I won’t, now go and get that job”.

The smile you had was the gentlest he had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but stare at it even as you closed the door behind you, shooting one last look at Eric.

He was brought back from his trance by a light grip onto his hand, Eric.

“Want to play Avengers with me?”.

And for a moment he was thankful that Hvitserk had brought him along to see that movie.

They didn’t spend much time discussing any plot, the small boy playing on his own and following around Ivar’s bad guy, and he immediately stopped as Ivar asked him whether he had a favorite superhero.

“It’s Thor!” he replied, immediately, grabbing the blond-haired hero “… he is super cool, and mom has told me all about him! The my… myth…mythlogy!”

“Mythology?” he replied, softly and the boy nodded “… has she told you about the time he had to dress up as a woman to get back his hammer?”.

Apparently no, with the way he shook his head immediately, lighting up interested.

The rest of the time passed with him telling his child stories, even when your mother walked in home and smirked at Ivar, although her eyes showed that she hadn’t forgotten the heartbreak he had made you go through.

‘Can you handle Eric for a bit longer? I am going to use the bathroom and then start getting him ready’ he looked at Eric who was pleading him with his eyes for another story.

‘I think I can’.

He then moved away as your mother came back, tucking in Eric and checking his bones and if he had taken the medicines and then wished ‘goodnight’ to him softly blowing a soft smile on his forehead.

He almost wished he could have done the same.

He hadn’t spent so much time with the boy, but he couldn’t help but feel attached to him already.

He had been worried to find somebody like him as a child, spoiled and grumpy, but Eric was an happy child, no matter his legs, he was active and sweet, curious enough to show that he was smart, but he wasn’t as cunning as him.

He believed that you had done an amazing good job, raising up the child.

Your mother came back, with a small smirk on her face.

“He says he wants to say ‘goodbye’ to you”.

And like that he slipped inside of the room of his son, taking a better look at it, realizing that it was a small and pretty crowded but tidy, and he didn’t know whether it was you who kept in order for the boy, himself.

But Eric soon caught his eyes again.

“… hey, Ivar!” he turned to him, stumbling closer to the bed “… your stories are even better than mom’s!”.

“I know, I know” he winked at him jokingly “… but don’t tell her, if I know one thing about your mother it is that she hates losing”.

“She does!” shouted back Eric, giggling lightly, as you always did when you heard something funny.

He wondered if you still did.

“Well I am glad you liked my stories! I hope to come over again to tell you more!” he replied, tentatively hoping that Eric speaking with his mother might convince her, although… he knew you could be even more stubborn than him.

“… I’ll tell her! And maybe we can watch ‘The Flash’ together! I can show you why I like him so so much”.

He honestly hated superheroes but due to the huge smirk on his son’s face he couldn’t stop himself from agreeing, and maybe… just maybe he would have finally enjoyed those movies.

“Of course, kiddo!” he promised, even swearing with the pinky promise, a small smirk on his own face, and the sudden realization of how small his son’s hand was instead of his, in a way that made him almost shiver at his frailty.

And he made to turn around, definitely nervous about how and what he should do next.

He knew that you wouldn’t have liked if he tried to say the things that were going around in his head in that moment, and although he knew it was a tough battle, he respected the boundaries you put around yourself.

“… Ivar!” Eric called him out one last time, his gaze focused onto his legs, in a way that showed him immediately the theme of the talk they were going to have “… do they also hurt you very much?”.

He stopped, the sunny boy he had met a few moments disappeared in a more introvert one, almost ashamed of his question, and Ivar couldn’t help but feel like that was his part, that was his legacy to him.

He had also been a scared little boy wondering what would be happening to him, if it was normal, finding a reason behind his pain.

“Yes, they still do” he couldn’t lie to his face like that “… but… you get used to it, and there are some things that can be useful for the pain…”.

“Mom always says that I am extraordinary for… the pain… like I am ever better than Flash!” he mumbled, a smile making its way on his face “… you are pretty cool too, Ivar”.

Although he hated all those stupid encouragement speeches, the sincerity in his son’s voice, shook him.

“… thank you, kiddo” and he then moved away, finding you in the hallways, trying to discard the painful heels you were wearing in a way that brought his heart back at your first prom together and how you had discarded the uncomfortable shoes, when you had hidden away from everybody in the porch of his house, bunching up the dress, to be more comfortable.

“Oh… you are back” he couldn’t help but feel stupid, but you didn’t give it too much thought, instead checking for Eric’s room, walking past him without giving him a second glance.

Eric faked of being asleep, but you still caught him, a small smirk onto your face, and you moved inside, tucking him better, as you pushed his braces away so that he wouldn’t trip over them when he would wake up tomorrow.

All the gestures of an attentive mother.

He couldn’t help but be a bit amazed, and as you finished the entire trip to Eric’s room.

You closed the door behind you, as he felt your mother doing the same, although he wouldn’t be surprised to know that she was listening with her ear onto the door.

“He seemed pretty happy” you muttered, clutching yourself tighter in your jacket.

“I hope your interview went well” he replied, a bit embarrassed suddenly.

“I’ll know in a few days” your voice didn’t let go anything in your tone, but he couldn’t help but feel like the night had gone well, no matter your worry.

“When will I know if…” ‘if I am allowed to see my son again?’.

“In a few days” your impassible tone broke a bit, letting some emotion pass “… thank you for coming”.

“He is my child, that’s the least I could do” he shot back, immediately “… even if you don’t want to accept it”.

Like that you were again still and rigid with him, going to the door to open it for him, in an obvious sign that he should go.

“… goodnight, Ivar”.

“Goodnight, (Y/N)”.

And now all he had to was hope he had done a good impression.


	3. The Story of How She Found Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are slowly learning to trust Ivar, when he is brought apart by some interesting news and a difficult choice: revealing the truth or continue on lying?

He remembered the day he had decided that he had wanted to be something more than simply friends with you.

You had been best friends since you were nothing more than children: you had always been the only one who had softly interacted with him, the only child of a couple who had just transferred in the small city, and not many people seemed open enough to start friendship.

Hence you had been pushed together and had seen each other grow, till the day Ivar had looked at you differently.

He remembered perfectly the way you had dressed, because it had been the first time you had shown yourself at school with a skirt.

It had been the first day of the third year of high school, it was hot enough to make everyone wary of coming back to school and of wearing anything that went below the knee, hence you had solved the problem wearing a simple straight skirt.

Light blue with a checkered fantasy, matched with a blue blouse in the perfect ‘schoolgirl’ style, nothing extremely seductive or surprising, hadn’t you worn hoodies and graphic t-shirt for all your life, till that day.

And Ivar had realized that you weren’t a simple friend anymore, you were a girl.

You had seemed uncomfortable in the entire ensemble, even more when Hvitserk had joked with you, asking you ‘when had you suddenly grown tits?’.

You had just tried to cover you up for the rest of the day, even going as far as to ask Ivar if it was too much.

And part of him thought it was too much, because he didn’t want guys to see those ‘naked’ long legs exposed, transformed from the gangly ones always covered with bruises from your clumsy behavior he was used to.

And even those curves as dangerous as a nightly road.

‘… I mean…’ he hadn’t been able to mumble something more than ‘… you look nice’.

And the fact that you still tortured him in his dreams with that smile you had given him after, was a further proof of how much he had felt for you, back then.

And how much you still had an impact on him like that.

He woke up, suddenly, sweating cold as he turned onto one side, sensing a body near him and he couldn’t help but think that it was you.

It had to be you.

Before anything sexual had happened, you had started sleeping together as soon as you could.

As a restless sleeper you were more comfortable tucked under Ivar’s arms, whereas he felt like there was a wonderful intimacy between you two, much better than anything sexual his brothers told him they did with their girlfriends.

And there was something inherently sensual in your soft voice in the morning, the hazed movements and the soft caresses, such as your nose brushing against his neck, or his hands around your hips, bringing you closer.

He was so lost in the entire dream that he didn’t realize immediately that the person beside him hadn’t your hair color, neither your face and your sweet smile.

It was Freydis, not you.

And he shouldn’t have been that disappointed.

He raised his body into an upright position, pain already shooting through his legs, signaling him that he wouldn’t have an easy day, even worsened by the fact that Freydis seemed to immediately understand his discomfort, waking up quickly after.

‘You shouldn’t wear the braces and you should use the wheelchair’ she always suggested on these days, even more if it was on the weekend, insisting they should have just laid in bed, peacefully.

But he just had this constant need to push and prove himself, to the point that rest wasn’t ever his priority even more when Freydis tended to him in that childish way that reminded him of his mother’s overbearing attentions.

Were you also that way with Eric?

From what he had seen the child had a large margin of freedom, maybe even more than he would have allowed, worried about the fact that he might end up hurt.

But wasn’t that the same reason he was chastising Freydis’ behavior?

Heahmund would have said he was a hypocrite.

About Heahmund, he should have spoken to him mostly to talk with him about the small progress he had made and ask for some tips on what to do next, although he knew that his future… was simply in your hands.

“I can bring you breakfast in bed” suggested Freydis, as she got up in her small white babydoll, the incarnation of naïve sensuality and still Ivar couldn’t feel as any man would have felt with such a woman.

“Thank you, sweetheart” he spoke, thankful for the absence of Freydis so he could talk with Heahmund and could reason on what to do about Eric and Freydis.

As much as he wanted nothing more than to keep the two worlds separated, he didn’t want to continue on lying to his fiancé, even more when she was undergoing expensive treatments to have his child.

But he thought he could push it back further, after the previous night you might not want to see him again and he might be forced to back off, as much as he hated the thought of it.

Even more now that he knew Eric.

The sweetness of that boy was a welcome change to the personality he had expected of a spoiled annoyed child, as he had been at his age, broken in by the exclusion and rejection of his fellow ‘friends’.

He hadn’t asked many questions to Eric about his life, not knowing if it was allowed and knowing that you wouldn’t have liked him snooping on your life, but he made a mental point to talk to him about it, if he ever met him again.

“Somebody is full of thoughts today” surprised him Freydis as she set down the breakfast tray onto the bed, between her and Ivar, taking the man’s hand softly “… something troubling you, my love?”.

“Just some things at the company” he replied, feeling bad for lying to her, but he didn’t know what he could say.

‘Hey babe, you know how I can’t get an erection for you? Well when I was in high school I could… and I got somebody pregnant’.

The worst thing ever was the fact that he knew how Freydis would have felt, like there was something wrong in her… and he knew all too well the feeling, so he didn’t want her to feel that way.

“You should ask them for some free time, they overwork you” suggested Freydis, kissing his hands.

Another reason why he loved Freydis so much was her continuous silent support, the way she would know how to make herself useful without getting on his nerves.

“… but then how would I be able to take care of you?” he smirked softly, a hand drifting onto her flat stomach “… and of our growing family?”.

Another flash of memory pushed your face on Freydis’ one as he imagined you with a full belly, the proof of your pregnancy shown as the bright smile of happiness on your face.

You definitely looked beautiful with a pregnant belly.

And so, would have Freydis.

“… want to relax helping me with some stuff for the wedding?” she suggested, a bright smile on her face, making one appear on Ivar’s, your face and your pregnant belly almost forgotten.

“… of course, sweetie”.

And as his eyes turned onto Freydis as she came in with invitation samples, a message from you came onto his phone.

Yeah, you were almost forgotten.

Almost.

* * *

Being a single mother could be extremely hectic, even more on the mornings when you had to juggle a job and your son had to go to school, a friend’s parent coming to pick him up on certain days since they had to take the same road to arrive to school.

What helped you was getting everything ready before ‘the beast’ woke up.

Your mother grabbed her coffee and her own breakfast, hiding in her room, a sign that she wasn’t ready to talk with you after what she had done the previous night.

You, yourself, didn’t know if you had to be thankful for what she had done or hate her for straight up disobeying the sole rule you had set up with her.

It was something that you would decide after the little chat that you were planning to have with Eric.

“Eric Luther (L/N) move your butt!” you screamed from the kitchen, hearing a matching giggle from the boy’s room, as you felt the familiar sound of your boy fumbling with his braces.

The doctor you had been seeing since Eric’s birth had suggested that you let your child do whatever he wanted to do on his own, trying to make him as autonomous as possible, as much as you could do that for a five-year-old.

As he came in the kitchen, stumbling and half asleep, rubbing on his eyes softly, you quickly moved to him, to tighten the braces as he leaned on comfortably against the furniture, till his crutch.

“… good morning, Flash” you joked softly, as you messed up your son’s sever bedhead, before kissing his nose, till he pushed you away, faking disgust, but you knew all too well that he was bashing in your affection “… slept well?”.

“Yeah” he spoke, although by his silence you were well aware, he wasn’t in the best mood, his legs probably hurting him “… can I have orange juice for breakfast?”.

“Of course, sweetie” you explained softly, moving back to the kitchen counter to fill a glass with orange juice as you offered him a plate with his favorite treat, adding some extra Nutella in his croissant “… can I get you anything else, my prince?”.

“Can I not go to school?” insisted the boy, with a way that was telling you he was taking advantage of the entire situation.

“Well… then also no soccer practice?” he immediately shook his head, promising that he was already feeling better “… can you sit, sweetie? I’d like to talk with you about something”.

“Of course, mommy” he quickly got up on the chair, using the crutch to keep himself up as he adjusted himself comfortably on the chair beside you, who had finished her own breakfast and was already in work clothes “… is it about your friend, Ivar?”.

“Yes” you almost hated that Eric had inherited Ivar’s skills for observing people “… did you… did you have fun with him?”.

You felt your palms growing sweaty as your breath came slower in your lungs, but you tried not to show anything.

“Yes!” happiness oozed from all his pores as he clapped his hands together “… we played Avengers and he told me more mythical stories! Did you know that once Thor dressed up as a bride to get his hammer back?!”.

The excitement in Eric’s eyes was contagious and you couldn’t help but smirk softly at him, daring a hand further to him to caress his face.

For a moment you almost wondered if his life would have been better if you had told Ivar you were expecting a child of his.

Maybe Eric would have smiled that sweetly each day.

“… would you…” your voice trembled lightly, and you tightened the grip on your hand on your thighs “… would you like to see him again?”.

“Yes yes yes!” screamed the boy, beating his fists against your kitchen table, making you laugh lightly to choke back tears as you made the boy rush back to dressing himself up to have a minute with yourself, collecting your body before you faced again your child.

Had it been truly a good choice to keep Ivar out of your child’s life?

Then you remembered the heartbreak he had put you through and thought about what it would feel for Eric to go through a similar ache, when he had already had so so many painful moments in his short life.

That’s why, no matter how good of an impression Ivar had done on your child, you couldn’t simply forgive him like that and made him come back in his life.

And you also had to take your time before you admitted to him that he was Ivar’s child.

Before you, yourself, started also thinking that way.

As Eric rushed out, saluting you shortly, your mother got out of her self-imposed exile, appearing on the doorway of your small kitchen as you rushed to make yourself busy.

“… you know that this doesn’t make you a bad mother” she commented setting herself on one chair, distractedly but searching your gaze.

“And what does that make you?” you couldn’t hold your tongue back anymore, a bit emotional about the entire admission of Eric and currently fighting with yourself about your own decision “… you sold me to the enemy”.

“I just realized before you that you can’t go on acting like you can do everything on your own” and as you were ready to reply to her, she shot you down with a quick look “… and don’t say that you have me, because as you have seen, I can’t always be there for you, one day…”.

“Do we seriously have to talk about it?!” you protested, tears now streaming freely on your face “… mom… I can’t…”.

“I know that you find it difficult to trust anybody but me, Eric or yourself, and I don’t blame you for that… after everything you have gone through… Ivar and your father… I know that it isn’t easy, but… you can’t simply destroy your health because of this” she reached for your hand, gripping tightly as you turned to face her “… you have to learn to let others in”.

“I am just scared that… maybe I did the wrong thing: Eric liked him… maybe I shouldn’t have ever ever hidden him” you set yourself down on the table the closest to your mother, leaning your head onto her shoulder “… maybe I just ruined his life…”.

“Sweetie calm down” she replied softly, pushing a hand through your hair “… us mothers do things on instinct which is something that always works, and we should never ever apologize for that! You did what you knew was right, which was pushing yourself away from the boy who had broken your heart”.

She softly pushed your hair away from your face, to look at you in your shared eyes.

“… now what has changed?” you asked, trembling.

“He isn’t a boy anymore, he is trying to make amend for what he broke and although what he broke might never become … whole again… you should allow him to help you, when you need it”.

“I don’t know…”.

“One step at the time” she spoke softly, before kissing the soft crown of your hair “… everything will be alright”.

You hoped so.

* * *

Ivar couldn’t help but be completely surprised by the fact that he was willingly coming to a doctor’s appointment, but you had asked him to come with you for a monthly check up, since he had wanted to be more present in his child’s life.

You and Eric hadn’t come yet, but he had also to admit that he had arrived early.

Still the knowledge of it hadn’t made him less nervous about it all.

And the fact that he hated waiting rooms at doctor’s office didn’t help.

He didn’t mind the doctors’ studios and hospitals, but waiting rooms made people look at him weirdly, as he shifted his braces against the ground in an attempt to calm himself.

To distract himself, he went through the plan you had elaborated with him to explain his presence to Eric: you had told him that since Ivar was a ‘senior’ at osteogenesis imperfecta might help the doctors with the right treatment for him.

He had also told Freydis to avoid calling him in the afternoon, having a big conference and being completely focused on it, since on it would depend the entire future of an important project.

The worst thing was that he hadn’t felt bad in the slightest to lie to her, being just happy of seeing again Eric.

He wouldn’t have chosen this doctor, but mostly because she focused onto pediatric medicine, but he could see where you came from, and what you could afford and couldn’t.

That’s why he had also decided to set up a deal for you about a financial help.

He knew you would be too stubborn to accept it, but you had a weak point: Eric.

He knew that the true reason why you were allowing him to see Eric was because he had been the one to insist with you to see Ivar again, and he couldn’t be happier.

You came in as Ivar was thinking that you would be late, just of a single minute before the start of the appointment, Eric stumbling happily on his crutches towards him, as you trailed behind him, with his jacket in your hands.

You were wearing jeans again, but a black skinny pair, and inserted in them was a white blouse with a jacket over it, in a casual elegance that stole his breath away.

Unlike Eric who literally smashed against him in a quick hug (he would have a quick talk with you about making Eric more wary of strangers), you simply smiled lightly at him, evidently at unease.

“Hey buddy!” he muttered as he ruffled the child’s hair and you sat down a chair away from him “… it’s nice to see you again”.

“You can tell me more stories!” squeaked Eric, gaining a look of reprimand from an old lady, to who Ivar glared enough to shut her up, before turning to his son, who was trying to sit on the chair.

“Hey… wait… I can help you” he insisted, worried about the way he moved, as a child he would have already broken a bone with such sudden gestures.

“No no, there is no need to” he spoke with confidence, finally settling himself onto the chair “… mom says that I am big enough to do it on my own!”.

“The doctor has told me that it is better for him to get used on doing things on his own” you explained, softly, as you set his jacket in his ‘Flash’ themed backpack.

He needed to watch that TV series, ASAP.

“… oh… I am just not used to it” although he was against it, he tried his best not to show any contrast to you as Heahmund had suggested.

But he couldn’t help but feel like it was just a tad irresponsible.

Aslaugh, his mother, would have never allowed it.

But his mother’s education had overprotected him to the point that it had smothered him and seeing the way Eric was so happy and hopeful he had to admit that maybe… maybe your parenting techniques weren’t bad.

He wasn’t allowed to think much more, because an Afro-American woman came out of the small ambulatory, with a medical jacket on her outfit and a smile on her face as Eric stood up, immediately greeting her.

“Auntie Caryn!” he ran to her, stumbling on his feet and hugged her, although he barely came to her waist, making the woman smirk as her gaze moved to you with a familiar smirk, moving then to Ivar.

And then shock and surprise was written on it.

He didn’t know what to say, suddenly a bit uncomfortable by the entire situation.

“Hello there, doc” you mumbled softly, taking back the child to calm him down, before turning to Ivar “… he is a friend of mine, the one… I talked about”.

He was worried about what you two had talked about but tried to be on his best behavior, smiling charmingly at the woman, who ushered you inside, simply mumbling a ‘oh this is new’.

Once inside she told Eric to get on the medical chair and wait for her, as you set up in a more private office, and you passed Caryn the medical records meanwhile Ivar sat down.

“He has been saying that his bones’ strength has been intensifying, but I don’t fully understand if he is saying it just to play soccer or…”.

“He plays soccer?” asked confused Ivar, feeling like he was basically a stranger in Eric’s life.

You turned to him annoyed, but still answered him.

“… yeah, he does, he is a goalie” and then turned towards the doctor “… today he woke up feeling pain, but it wasn’t enough to stop him or make him feel tired, still it hadn’t happened in three months”.

“That is a good sign” spoke softly the doctor, as she sat down examining exams after exams “… the level of pain endurance is always important to be kept under check in order for it not to worsen, unluckily it isn’t a proof of any bones strengthening”.

Your face immediately turned in a grimace, but you nodded lightly.

Ivar couldn’t help but notice how tense you were being, almost wanting to try to reach out for you, hadn’t he known that you would have rejected him, and such an open and heartfelt rejection would have pained him much harder than his legs.

“… and you must be the father” the words sounded uttered with a skepticism that brought Ivar back from his thoughts, and again it was you, who nodded.

Caryn had maintained her voice low, probably not to be heard by Eric.

“You share a similar pathology with Eric?” she continued, informing herself about his family history and his own treatment, which Ivar explained pretty quickly, getting the woman to nod along, meanwhile your grip onto the chair you hadn’t sat on tightened.

You definitely didn’t like doctor’s appointments, and he could understand why.

Aslaugh hadn’t either, but whereas you seemed to be more anxious, his mother had always and constantly been angry, with the doctor, with herself, with his father… her rage had always a great amount of varieties.

“… interesting” finished mumbling Caryn, before she dropped the papers and moved to her ambulatory, where Eric had ditched his pants and braces, and was now playing with the small action figures of Captain America.

“Ok, superhero, now go and lay down so that I can check your legs” told him the doctor and although Ivar was used to seeing his legs, he couldn’t help but be surprised by Eric’s, the same knocked and small bones he owned, lightly crooked in some places, in a way that seemed and was painful “… anything to tell me? Saved somebody lately?”.

“Just old ladies on cats on trees… you know… the old stuff” he joked, brightening the atmosphere “… I became a goalie in the soccer squad!”.

“Oh, that’s amazing!” complimented him the doctor, crouching down to the boy’s height as he sat himself in an upright position “… now let’s see how these pretty legs work”.

She did a quick check up, the child completely relaxing himself as she distracted him with some small talk, processing to touch up his legs and test his pain and strength.

Ivar moved his eyes from the check-up, only to check up onto you finding you nervous and tense, biting on your lips, as you tightened the grip on your hand, digging your colorful nails in your hands.

It was more natural then he had thought, but he reached out one hand out to you, uncaring of the rejection he had always feared so much.

But you gripped it back, giving it a light squeeze as your eyes focused themselves on Eric and Caryn, till the check-up came to a end and you almost freed ashamed your hand from his grip.

“... everything alright” commented Caryn “… I do think that the treatment is working, but I can’t be sure till a bone break which is something that I hope you’ll avoid young man”.

Eric beamed, promising to avoid ‘anything dangerous’, but the smart smirk on his face said the exact contrary.

She then left him to dress up with the promise of a lollipop in her office, scribbling something in his medical papers, as Ivar asked a few questions.

But Caryn asked the most important one.

“… am I going to see you, again?” she said with something that might have seemed spiteful, hadn’t he seen the way she had taken care of Eric and the way she smiled at you: she had been there when you had no one to turn to.

“I hope to stick around” he was a bit annoyed by the implication that he wouldn’t stick around.

But he could also see where she came from, having seen a single mom raising a child by her own.

He still wanted to explain to her that it wasn’t exactly his fault, but…

… he thought it was better not to.

You were trying to trust him and had even let him onto a physical level, but he couldn’t simply think that everything was now settled.

“… am I allowed to take part in the Sunday match?” asked Eric, once he was again on his feet and crutch “… it’s going to be my first real match!”.

“Of course, sweetie” commented the doctor, finishing writing and rummaging through a drawer before getting out a colorful lollipop, that basically made the biggest smile appear on Eric’s face “… see you next month, Eric”.

And then she turned to accompany you out, greeting you and Ivar as you already had the Eric’s jacket in your hands, trying to convince the child to wear it.

“… it was nice meeting you, Mr. Lothbrock, hope to see you next time”.

He tried not to grimace at the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“Mom can I eat the lollipop?” asked immediately Eric, as you smirked at him, having adjusted the jacket on his shoulder.

“Hey sweetie, I don’t think that would be a proper meal, for your afternoon break, but you can…”.

“What if we get ice cream?” suggested Ivar, knowing it was a low blow as you turned to glare annoyedly at him, but he wanted to spend time with his son, even if he had to use cheap tricks and childish ideas, because that’s all he had, against your big big brain and grunge against him.

“Yes yes yes!” and then he turned to you, although you had no chance “… can we please get ice cream, mom?”.

“I don’t think that my ‘no’ will stop you two” you mumbled, shooting an annoyed look at Ivar “… there is one near a park, so that we could talk”.

Well, that was troubling.

* * *

You cleaned Eric’s face, dabbing it with a small paper tissue, before sending the boy off to play, having to talk with Ivar, who was playing around with his own ice cream cup, messing his face the same way Eric did.

He had always been a messy eater, which was something that you didn’t mind since you, yourself, weren’t a polite one, but it brought you back to the old time when you were together and you would be sharing a plate of fries, after an hard session of studying.

“… did I do alright?” he commented, surprising you as he kept his eyes onto his meal “… maybe I exaggerated with the… ice cream…”.

“Eric seems to like you” you silenced him quietly, playing with Eric’s half-finished ice cream “… and as long as that keeps happening… you are alright”.

“Then maybe I could tell him” he suggested, his eyes shining brightly.

And like that you moved forward to look at him in the eyes, your grudge against him showing in your own eyes.

“Ivar, you broke my heart and I won’t let you do the same with my child” your tone was damnably serious, although you didn’t raise your voice “… so till I feel like I can trust you, you are simply a friend of mine”.

“Am I?” he raised an eyebrow with a smirk that had never failed to get on your nerve.

“I hope you can be” you breathed out softly, trying to gain the courage to speak with him again “… running away with Eric wasn’t the best idea, but I won’t apologize for doing what I thought was the best. I am still wary about your presence in my family, but it would be simply heartless to keep you out of it…”.

Ivar was now looking at you with surprise written all over in his face.

“… and unlike you I am not heartless” you delivered the finishing line and Ivar’s eyes veiled with sadness “… I hope you can understand where my distrust come from and respect it”.

“I don’t have a problem, as long as I can interact with Eric” although he seemed a bit hurt by your tongue-lashing “… he is a brilliant boy”.

“That he is” you spoke softening your tone at the mention of your boy, a you turned to see him trying to crawl up onto the small wooden castle in the park “… he is just gone through too much pain to also have his heart broken, again”.

“I’ll keep that in mind” he promised you and although Ivar might be a cunning little shit, you knew perfectly well that he would for ever ever hold the word he gave “… now… can I ask a few things about my child?”.

“I have photos for that”.

\---

Although he knew that he hadn’t still won you over, as Ivar came back home he was the happiest man alive.

Eric was fine and although begrudgingly you had accepted his financial help, as long as you got to repay him, which he hoped would never happen, but you were too stubborn and honest.

He had always loved that about you.

Had he just said ‘love’?

He was halfway through looking at the photos you had shared with him, when he felt two pair of arms being pushed around his waist, gently hugging him from behind as Freydis pushed her head onto his shoulder.

“Ahh, it’s so nice to know that you aren’t dead” she commented, her tone as always soft, but he couldn’t help but notice something rotten in her tone, almost sarcasm.

“Sorry, sweetheart, just work… it’s been hectic” he confessed softly, turning around to kiss her softly on her forehead, his good mood unflinching even though she seemed a bit angry.

“… well you’ll have to take a bit off” her tone, again although gentle, didn’t allow any reply “… I have got some interesting news from the clinic”.

Which completely destroyed his good mood.

Because they either wanted him to undergo more therapy to strengthen his seed or they straight up wanted his seed, and he didn’t know which option was less interesting.

And more humiliating.

“I am all ears” he tried to muster a smile, thinking about the small video of Eric moving his first step, the braces on his legs so small that he had wanted to cry out “… is everyth…”.

“I am pregnant”.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

“Ivar, is everything alright?” her voice came to him as if it was too distant, far away and away “… it’s happy news, isn’t it”.

Of course.

They had been searching for that baby since they had become engaged and their wedding would be happening in three months, so he shouldn’t have felt that empty and apathetic towards that news.

Even more when he had the best time of his life with Eric.

He thought it was simply the shock and again mustered up a small smile on his face, hugging Freydis tight who had started crying on his chest, something that made the entire situation even more awkward.

“… I am just surprised sweetie, I didn’t think… hadn’t they said that the last sample of seed was too weak?” he asked.

Although he tried to leave the entire fertility clinic part at Freydis, since it was an entire new thing for him, whereas Freydis working in that climate, having a nurse degree, and being determinate about this, he still tried to keep track of it.

And the last time they had talked about it, Freydis had told him that the specialist had said that his seed was too weak to impregnate her, and the last two tries had gone badly.

There was something that wasn’t convincing him, but Freydis’ joy was so natural and sweet, and he just couldn’t call her a liar, and alongside that she rushed to the bathroom to retrieve the pregnancy test, showing itself as positive.

And in the end he couldn’t help but think that maybe his skepticism was a way to hide his guilt for having met Eric and you, ignoring Freydis, who would be his soon-to-be-wife and mother of the child she had worked so hard on having.

And maybe another part of his uneasiness about the subject was the fact that he hadn’t had a proper role in all this, but at the same time, again… that was partly his fault.

So, he just smiled through his teeth and gently tightened his grip on her waist, showing more enthusiasm in his smile, as she immediately matched him, kissing him softly on his lips as he smirked against them.

“Ahh beloved that is wonderful news!”

She moved to softly pepper his face with kisses, as she whispered about how lucky she had been and how beautiful it would all be.

‘It’ll just bring us together, even more!’ she cheered, as they sat down on the sofa, the pregnancy test forgotten onto their glass table ‘… that’s perfect timing’.

Ivar wasn’t so sure about it, but he faked a smile.

“We should celebrate it!” he proposed, feeling like the house was closing onto him “… our favorite restaurant, at 8 p.m.?”.

“Ahhh… I actually already did something…” she spoke softly, a slight blush gracing her beautiful face “… we had that dinner with Torvi and Ubbe… I thought it would be a perfect dinner to tell them the good news”.

And Ivar just swallowed his spiteful opinion and smiled.

“That’d be perfect sweetie”.

\---

You kept on replaying the big smile that had been on Ivar’s face when you had showed him the first pictures of Eric.

At first you had been low key wary of showing something so intimate to him.

That was the main reason why you ditched social medias, but at the same time you felt like the journey you were on with Ivar, needed you both to take steps towards the other for the wellbeing of Eric.

Ivar had sacrificed his free time and had accepted to avoid admitting that he was Eric’s father, so you could show him a few silly pictures.

He had smirked brightly at the one of Eric overcoming the limits that his sickness had pushed him in, and you didn’t understand if he was happy for the child to have the chance he hadn’t had or if he was proud of your child.

Who was also his.

Either way, his smile haunted you as you crashed your head on the sofa, after you had managed to get Eric to start his ‘bedtime routine’, with your mother graciously taking care of the dishes as an apology of sorts for reaching out to Ivar without asking you.

You couldn’t help but feel fifteen again, having Ivar by your side, with that cute dorky smile of his, hidden with everyone but with you, as you smirked for a shared joke or when you caught him looking at you, concealing a smile that would make you blush.

But that was a dangerous road.

Because any memory about Ivar would bring you back to your ‘break-up’ story.

Although five years had passed, five years in which you had tried to desperately not think about Ivar, you still didn’t know why he had decided to break up with you.

The entire thing had just been too sudden and abrupt and you couldn’t help but think that the entire excuse of ‘having lost any feeling for you’ was the stupidest you had heard, and although you knew people had used some even more idiotic ideas.

But still… it had made no sense.

Ivar had never seemed the guy who was into it for simply the sex, unlike his brothers.

And maybe this was just an attempt to shift the focus from you, that you had been the problem.

Because it would have hurt you too much.

You were slowly spiraling down, when your phone started vibrating, signaling an incoming call, which either meant that Ivar wanted to schedule another appointment or you were being asked for another turn at the diner.

Both the ideas didn’t excite you particularly, but the number on the screen wasn’t known to you, and you thought it was maybe some publicity agency, so you were even more wary when answering it.

“… hello?” you mumbled, hearing a confused background till a familiar voice answered.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” you immediately recognized the voice of the owner of the gallery you had tried to get an internship in “It’s Tina from the gallery, am I bothering you?”.

‘No, I am just having a panic attack at the prospect of being pushed out of the best job I have had in a while’ you mentally thought but answered that it wasn’t a problem.

“I know it is late, but we have just finished a quick reunion and found ourselves to be very interested in working with you, the try-out was amazing…” you still didn’t understand how you had worked through it because you had felt like shit for the entire night, worried of having left Eric with Ivar “… so we thought about continuing on working with you, if you are still interested”.

“Oh” that was the best news ever “… of course! I’d like to work with you”.

“Then you start next week, a week trial, and then you are officially hired, I am sending to your email the timetable for this week”.

“Ahh yeah, thank you for the chance” you were honestly on the verge of tears “… see you on Monday”.

“See you on Monday” repeated softly Tina, before closing the call and you felt two pair of eyes on you, your mother having raised her face from the dishes and Eric who had listened onto the conversation.

And you couldn’t help but childishly reply:

“I got the job”.

“Then we have something to celebrate!” giggled your mother as Eric hugged you tight.

Maybe your life wasn’t going so badly…

* * *

He couldn’t help but feel like he just had to learn to be more discreet since the reveal of Freydis’ pregnancy, even more after his brothers had mentioned their meeting with (Y/N) at the diner.

‘Oh, Ivar hadn’t told me about it’ he had had a ‘Gone Girl’ flashback at Freydis’ voice and he had forced out a smile, replying with a simple:

‘It must have passed my mind’.

But Freydis had kept an eye out for him, hence the sole time he had had free from her he had spent it looking through Eric’s photos.

And he was desperately looking forward to Sunday morning since ‘Eric had wanted to invite him to his first soccer match’.

‘He is very excited’ you had mumbled over the phone, as he had basically locked himself on the bathroom at work to speak with you calmly ‘… it would mean a lot to me, my dad used to come before he…’.

Before he ran away.

He had worked some researches on your family after you had left your old city, which meant that he had heard the gossip his mother’s friends had for him.

‘Oh, Ivar you are such a sweet boy! It’s so nice of you to call him’ they had all mumbled and it hadn’t taken him much to discover the truth.

Your father had left you and your mother, running away with another woman and he found himself unable to stop the anger against that man from growing.

He had always thought that your father would have been one of the good ones: he was strict but not enough to have stopped you from hanging out with Ivar, outside of home, and he had been the one who had taken in Ivar although begrudgingly.

And from what he had seen and heard, he had loved your mother truly.

Had he also been dared by his friend to leave you and your mother?

Because he had then been as idiotic as Ivar.

And he could understand why you didn’t want Ivar back in your life.

“… so, let me know if you want to come” you had ended the call not giving him even a single moment to reply, as embarrassment was heard in your tone, clearly wanting to close this entire conversation early.

But he had the perfect timing, since Saturday Freydis had programmed an outing with her friends to let them know about the good news.

It was all Freydis had done, showing off the good news to everyone who would listen, receiving mixed reaction: polite smiles to her face and mutters under their breaths.

Their brothers had later cornered him after dinner to ask him if he really wanted this.

‘This is all moving too fast, Ivar, don’t you realize it?’ had uttered Ubbe.

Which he agreed on, but he would be damned if he admitted he was wrong and didn’t have everything under control.

‘… it might be a scam Ivar’ had uttered Sigurd and that was then when he had lost it.

‘Just because my life is going perfectly already and yours is shitty as hell doesn’t mean that mine is an illusion’ he had replied, harshly quitting any protests ‘… this is beautiful news and we should celebrate it’.

But he had been still nervous to utter it to his mother, mostly because she had been already angered by Ubbe’s quick eloping, which hadn’t lasted even more to prove her words, so he was trying to avoid doing the same.

And he also knew that he had to come clear with Freydis about Eric, because although he might have another child on the way, he wouldn’t simply abandon his previous one.

He just couldn’t do it to him.

And to you.

So, he had issued another reunion with Heahmund and Oleg, his business partner, about the entire problem, in order to get a second opinion on this entire mess, no matter how much he hated asking for help.

“We need to talk about a situation”.

“The one we talked about last Saturday after you barged ‘on my date’? “mumbled Heahmund, with a raised eyebrow.

“What situation?” asked annoyed Oleg, as he played around with some papers on the desk, trying to adjust them till they were perfectly set up, showing all his perfectionist nature.

“…. Ivar over here has a child, out of wedlock and from a high school sweetheart” quickly summarized “… and Freydis know no shit about it”.

“Ok that is interesting enough” mumbled Oleg, focusing his gaze onto Ivar “… do you need to make them disappear? I know people…”.

Both Heahmund and Ivar regarded him with a deep gaze of ‘what the fuck’, and he shook his head, mumbling about how ‘it was just an idea’.

“No, I… I actually want a relationship with my child and I am slowly reaching it” he muttered, explaining softly how you were slowly letting him in, although you refused to admit to Eric he was his father “… the problem is that… Freydis is pregnant”.

“Do you need me to make her disappear” again the glares told Oleg to shut up and Ivar wondered why he had asked him for help “… ok no disappearing, but …”.

“Dumbass you haven’t told her yet about the baby?” replied Heahmund, basically glaring at Ivar.

“I didn’t… I literally didn’t have the time” he mumbled, blushing furiously “… it all seemed so sudden, so I just had to come to your idiotic asses to get advise on when and how to tell Freydis about all this shit”.

“… well… I don’t think that there is a good way to do this” mumbled Oleg, nervously “… I’d say you just rip off the band aid”.

“… and risk your entire life” added Heahmund with a sarcastic drip in his voice, which made Ivar huff, because it was everything he had been thinking about.

Although Freydis hadn’t ever been jealous, she hadn’t had exactly much competition, he couldn’t imagine how painful it would have been for her to discover that Ivar had a previous child and that he intended contact, probably the most painful thing.

But still he couldn’t see an outcome of this in which Freydis would stop him from actually seeing you and Eric: she had always had this maternal instinct to her that he hoped wouldn’t have clashed with you and Eric.

But he couldn’t be sure till he asked.

And maybe he shouldn’t have.

Because when Freydis found out, accidentally, that Friday night, he couldn’t help but feel like all hell had broken loose.

He had meant to tell her on Sunday, maybe after he got her favorite breakfast and the new jewelry set, she had seen her admiring in her favorite store, in order for the truth to be sweetened.

To make it clear that as much as he might continue on seeing you because of Eric, it would never ever make him forget of her, the mother of his future child.

His soon-to-be-wife.

But everything had been destroyed that Friday night when he had come back to find Freydis on the sofa with the face of somebody who had discovered something she hadn’t meant to.

He still had tried his best to appear polite and nice.

“Hey sweetie, is everything alright?” he had tried to ask, but she had just sent him an annoyed look, before her small voice had uttered.

‘… maybe you could start with talking of your happy family’ she had replied, and he had known that she had caught him.

“It isn’t what you think” he had mumbled the most recriminating thing ever.

“Then explain to me why the hell Kristen caught you talking with a woman that wasn’t me” she had raised up, almost as if she had intended to challenge him, effectively getting him to move slightly away nervous.

He couldn’t help but feel that although he knew he was at fault here, Freydis was exaggerating the entire thing: he might have been simply speaking to a colleague.

“… and as if it wasn’t already enough, a child… WITH LEG BRACES!”.

He stumbled more and lost hold on his legs as he fell on his butt, hitting it soundly a terrible sickening sound of broken bones overcoming Freydis’ shout.

But what he found even more terrifying was that she didn’t move further, to try to help him or check on him, she just pierced him with her eyes as he tried to push himself back, failing miserably due to the pain coursing through his bones.

“… Freydis… I haven’t cheated on you”.

“That’s what all cheaters say”.

His hands weren’t able to grip, the pain was too much, so he reached in the pockets of his coat to retrieve some painkiller, swallowing a few pills dry, meanwhile Freydis went on a tirade on ‘how stupid she had been’ and ‘how horrible he was’.

“I seriously didn’t cheat on you, Freydis!” he shouted angrily, maybe more than he should have but he was in so much pain that he couldn’t simply put his usual filter on his words “… fuck Freydis, can’t you just shut up and let me at least explain?”.

She did, her eyes showing fear and he took a deep breath, checking his legs till he found the lump, and checked whether he had simply broken or bruised a bone, thankful when it resulted only very very badly bruised.

“… she is an old school girlfriend of mine…” he explained calmly, lowering softly his gaze “… we had sex once… and she got pregnant, I have only recently discovered of her and the child and I have been trying to \reconnect with him”.

“You…” Freydis looked like the one who was going to pass out from pain, as she stumbled back till the sofa where she sat gracefully, her gazed unfocused “… you had sex with her”.

“It’s the only time we did it, I… was never able again…”.

“So… you could have sex” she covered her mouth with a hand quickly “… you had sex… but you can’t with me…”.

And he understood that this had more repercussions that he might have realized.

“… Freydis I don’t know… I love you much much more than her… you know it… my prick is just…”.

“… and you had a child with her” she continued “… you are involved in this, you want to recognize him”.

“Of course, I want to! He is my child!” the words were natural to him as if her accusations were hurting him.

“… and what about my child?” she replied, her voice more a whisper before he spoke “… the one I worked so so hard for! Undergoing so many shitty therapies, just for you to recognize as your own a bastard child!”.

And that’s when he completely broke down.

“He is my fucking child, Freydis!” and before she could retort he finally managed to push himself on his own feet “… he isn’t a bastard or any less of the one in your womb and if you aren’t able to accept it, the door is there”.

And he shot out an arm to where the door was set up.

Looking back at it he wouldn’t have believed the threat he had sent to Freydis, powered by his anger and his pain, even for his usual anger it had been too much, but her accusation… how she had called Eric, his child, a ‘bastard’… had hit him in the face.

It had almost been a personal insult.

That’s why he also didn’t move in to stop her as she collected a few of her clothes in a small bag and pushed the coat onto her shoulder, barely looking back at Ivar who had managed to set himself onto the sofa again, not giving her a single drop of attention.

He couldn’t help but be pained with the way the door sounded once she closed it behind her, a light sniffling following her outside the room, as more sobs followed it.

But he felt almost cold and insensitive as a rock.

And he wouldn’t ask forgiveness for defending his son.

Even if he fell asleep alone at night.

Had he done the right choice?


	4. The Story of How Everything Solved (for now)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar now hasn't simply to deal with one scorned woman, but two. But, not only the thought of bieng separated from Eric pains him too much to be considered, but feelings for you are slowly being brought up, even more when you smile so prettily and take care so lovingly of your child.

The day of the game you couldn’t help but be nervous about whether Ivar would be coming or not.

You had sent him a small message that morning, to ask him to confirm his presence and if he wanted to meet you and Eric, before the game started, to have breakfast together and he hadn’t answered you, making you almost think he wouldn’t have come.

Which you didn’t know if it would have been a good or bad thing.

Maybe he had started thinking that Eric was ‘baggage’ for him, and most importantly would ruin his picture perfect life, although, if it was like that, you didn’t understand why he had insisted so much to try to support you.

But you couldn’t help but dread the thought of what his absence would do to Eric.

You had told him in the car about the fact that Ivar might not have come, lying that he had had an appointment, coming up at last.

‘So… if you don’t see him… don’t worry’ you had tried to console him, although he had already gotten quite the pouting expression, thing that made him similar to Ivar in any way, shape and form.

And you had felt like the worst mother ever.

Eric had brightened up a bit as his friends had all come around him and lead him to the coach, once he arrived at the game.

You definitely appreciated Eric’s schoolmates, and were grateful for the warm welcome they had given him.

He had had his own share of bullies, although he said everything was fine.

But once he had created his own group of friends, the bullies had eventually stopped taunting him.

You still kept an eye out for them at these things.

And as much as you were thankful for the other kids’ company, you dreaded their mothers.

You hated stereotyping people, but no mom had ever been so nice to avoid doing the same with you, as they looked at your hand-me-down clothes, and your lack of diamond ring on your finger.

And at your young face.

You had heard some rumors going around you, how you had gotten pregnant pretty young from an older man, probably some married man and had been basically thrown out of your small city for the shame of carrying a bastard.

A crippled bastard.

So, you tried not to associate yourself with them and instead, you had developed some kind of strange friendship with Angelika.

Angelika had also married young and had a child even younger, but after a small year together her husband had decided that the married life wasn’t for him.

He had gotten himself a mistress, meanwhile Angelika tried her best to keep the family safe and going, getting a small job in a local law firm.

By the end of the year she had kicked out the lazy husband and was the owner of the law firm, in a truly inspiring story.

At first, she hadn’t liked you, too young and stupid.

She had thought you had done the same mistake as her, but then she had soon discovered that the story was deeper, and she had taken the time to get to know you.

Not only she had become your friend, but she had pushed you to pursue the gallery work, eventually getting you an appointment as a try-out.

She was honestly one of the few people that you trusted and felt like she genuinely liked you.

Angelika immediately reached out to you, as she saw you arriving on the side of field where parents were allowed.

As usually she carried her small water bottle, filled with vodka and orange juice, and the ripped shirt of the soccer team, worn inside of her boyfriend jeans, meanwhile you wore it over it, completely uncaring of your appearance.

“Oh, thank God, you are here” she immediately mumbled, gripping onto your arm, as she brought you in a tight hug “… it’s been for ever since I last saw you”.

“… been busy” you were simply able to breath and you giggled softly at her affectionate antics, before she smirked at you.

“Gosh all business and no fun” she reprimanded as she took in your discarded appearance “… I gotta take you to some club”.

“What about Finn and Eric?” you asked, although you knew perfectly that if Angelika put her mind to something, everything would ever change.

“Drop them at my house, I’ll tell Theresa about it” Theresa was her German nanny, perfect and impeccable always eye-rolling at Angelika’s antics, but it didn’t wok with Angelika, who would eye-roll even harder back at her.

“I’ll think about it…” you mumbled, unsure of the entire thing.

Before Eric you had never been one for clubs or such, and you certainly wouldn’t start after the entire pregnancy and your motherhood, not simply because some nights you were too tired to even crawl to bed, but because there was a reason behind your uncaring appearance.

You were scared of your body.

Of the way it had changed during your pregnancy.

“… I know that tone” mumbled Angelika, prowling around you as a big feline “… that’s the ‘it’s definitely a no, but I am too gentle to tell you no’ “.

“That’s a ‘I’ll think about it’ “you retorted softly, as you gently held an hand out for her, before something else caught your eyes.

Ivar.

He had come.

And he was looking around as if he was a lost child.

“Just excuse me, for a moment…” you mumbled softly, as you approached him carefully, since he had this kind of lost emotion in his eyes, sadness almost and you couldn’t help but feel a fifteen girl again, who blurted out weird Taylor Swift lyrics because her best friend was unhappy, and she was trying to make him feel better.

He shook himself back to consciousness as he saw you in front of him, almost scared.

“Well you are here!” you said it with definitely much more uneasiness that you were supposed to, almost a forced out emotion “… I mean… you didn’t answer me… so I thought…”.

“Yes, I am here” and you knew that with that tone you had gone back to that fifteen-year-old-girl smiling at her best friend, because she knew she loved him.

You were screwed.

* * *

Ivar had woken up on the couch that morning, with his legs hurting like hell and yet, when he had seen your worried messages on his phone, he had just thought that he would be late for Eric’s game.

And he couldn’t.

He had swallowed a few painkillers, as the memory of last night came back to him, but nothing set onto him till he moved into his car, setting the journey for the school park, but then he just couldn’t stop himself from thinking.

‘What the hell am I thinking?’.

His soon-to-be-wife had basically left him because of his lies towards his life with you, and he was running to you and your child, as if you were his wife.

Which would only confirm Freydis’ jealousy.

Although he wouldn’t have approved of her psyched behavior, she certainly hadn’t been wrong about the influence you and Eric now held over him, but he would have preferred she hadn’t straight up attacked him.

But to avoid this, he shouldn’t have kept the secret from the start.

But would have Freydis allowed him to see Eric?

With that serious tone of their ‘confrontation’, he couldn’t help but feel like he had seen a side to Freydis he wasn’t used to.

Something he wasn’t completely unaware of, since he had seen some glimpses of it, but at the same time, it now seemed so deep-rooted that for a minute he had to admit that he had thought that she was going to be much more than simply vocal about the matter.

He certainly felt guilty for the wrongness of some of his actions, but he was also surprised by Freydis’ reaction to them.

He had thought some jewelry and a few promises might have made it all better, but now, in the aftermath of their fight, he had no idea how to make everything better.

Certainly, dwelling in his car wouldn’t have worked.

He tried to contact her, but her phone was switched off, and he honestly didn’t know where she could be found, certainly not a work, which was the only other contact he had for her.

And he realized he knew nothing of his soon-to-be-wife.

He didn’t know who were her friends, to who she could have gone and neither her family, since Freydis had told him that she had had a bad experience with them and had run off as soon as she could have.

He remembered a small apartment at which he had come to pick her up on their first dates, but she had soon moved away from it, as soon as Ivar proposed he just started living with her.

Hence, she was a ghost.

And although it made Ivar feel like a horrible husband, he couldn’t help but decide that this meant that she simply didn’t want to be found.

If he knew one thing for sure about Freydis was that she never did anything without a reason.

And he should have respected that.

Although it pained him.

He didn’t want to give her the impression that he didn’t care.

But at the same time, as he had made it clear the previous night, he wouldn’t leave Eric.

No matter what.

Hence, he started the engine and got to the school park.

He had almost regretted the decision, when he had arrived at the venue, immediately catching a crowd of chanting parents had welcomed and, although everybody kept their eyes to themselves, he couldn’t shake off the fact that they were staring him down.

He caught sight of you quite easily, as he saw you by the side of a pretty brunette with feline eyes, trying to convince you to do something reckless by the horrified look on your face.

It was the same you’d give Hvitserk every time he’d try his wicked charm on you.

Those were happier and easier times.

You were wearing a simple soccer jersey and oversized jeans, and although they both hid your body, they did nothing to dampen the natural beauty you had always owned.

He couldn’t help but wonder how men didn’t buzz around you like bees on a flower.

‘Stop being a creep Ivar’ he told himself, meanwhile he remembered the words of Heahamund after he had shown him a photo of you and Eric.

‘Fucking God! Do you even realize what a hot babe you left?’ he had immediately stammered as Ivar blushed ‘… did they drop you on your head as a child’.

And he confirmed it, with the way he answered your question.

Your eyes held a frantic fear and a pleasant surprise, almost as if she hadn’t thought that he’d actually come.

And your cheeks were flushed red.

He had a pleasant memory of your cheeks being flushed after their first and last night together.

It brought out all kind of memories.

‘Again, Ivar, no’.

“Well I am glad you are here” whatever gentleness you had showed for him immediately retreated back in you as you turned “… Eric will be happy of it”.

“Of course, I couldn’t miss his great day” his tone was teasing, and he could see with the way you stiffened in your position, he had hit something inside of you “… is he already on the playing ground?”.

“Sadly yes” you mumbled, but pointed him out to him, although he didn’t need much time looking to recognize the only child with braces, trying to exercise with the others, and as he exchanged a quick glance with his child, Eric immediately raised an hand to salute him.

His smile got so so big, that Ivar couldn’t help but smile back.

And ignore the continued glares sent his way.

Now intensified with his proximity to you.

He could only imagine what they all were talking about.

And as you two took a quick seat beside the brunette he had seen you talking with at the entrance of the venue, she immediately moved towards Ivar, offering a hand and a charming smile of pointy teeth.

He couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved that your ‘friends’ were so protective of you.

You deserved it.

You deserved to be protected from anything else that could have hurt you, after everything you had endured.

“… Angelika Magnussen” she mumbled quickly presenting herself “… (Y/N)’s best friend”.

He almost wanted to scoff that he had once been your best friend…

… and look where it got him.

Where it got both of you.

“Nice to meet you, Ivar Lothbrock…” he sent you a quick look to check with you, but there was no need to lie since everybody seemed to recognize what was going on “… Eric’s father”.

“Gosh I never thought I would have ever met you” in her tone there was a tang of sarcasm that annoyed Ivar, definitely more used to people like Freydis and his mother who would have no trouble agreeing and siding with him.

Maybe not Freydis, anymore.

“… I didn’t know” he simply muttered and you pushed yourself between her and him, sending to both a vicious glare, before the referee whistled the start of the game, getting the three of you to focus on the game.

Ivar couldn’t help but be on edge as soon as he saw Eric in oversized gloves, trying to guard the door, something that could seem absolutely normal and harmless for every child who didn’t have osteogenesis imperfecta.

But for Eric, he couldn’t help but feel nervous.

But you beside him seemed completely at ease, cheering on the boy as he managed to block the ball from entering the doors, and then pushing the ball to his schoolmates.

He couldn’t help but be again amazed by your prettiness and the natural way you did everything and handled motherhood.

And then a ball hit Eric right on his chest, knocking him off his legs, enough that both you and Ivar immediately moved raising up as Ivar made a move to move away from the steps you were sat onto, but you grabbed his hand to stop him as Eric got up pretty quickly, the trainer of the team coming close to him, alongside the school nurse.

And Eric immediately put himself up, lightly limping as the nurse helped him off the field, and the trainer got another boy to take care of his place.

And then as he moved towards the benches, you both scurried off the steps.

You both came to the part that was the closest to the benches seeing the nurse helping Eric with his braces, as you oversaw the entire process, before moving to check in with the nurse, his bones.

Thankfully the hit had been to the chest and the legs bucking off under him were simply for the impact.

And Ivar couldn’t help but watch raptured your soft gestures and the way Eric leaned in softly against you, as you checked on him before helping him into his braces again, asking with a whisper if he felt ‘ok’ enough to stay.

The child immediately nodded as a few of his classmates moved to also check on him.

Ivar had never had this kind of love poured onto him.

He had also to admit that sadly he wasn’t an easy child, as loving and gentle as Eric was.

But he couldn’t help but appreciate that his son had what he hadn’t had back then.

He might end up not turning up in the big screw-up Ivar was.

You returned to him a few minutes later by Ivar’s side, and although you had seemed quite calm and cold-blooded for the entire action, he saw the way your body trembled lightly and…

… your hands were still linked.

Suddenly you gripped tight back onto his.

And he honestly liked it too much to tell you anything, although it wasn’t proper.

He had Freydis.

Or at least he had had her.

Because her actions of the previous night certainly weren’t something that made him feel reassured about his relationship status.

But at the same time, he wasn’t sure that it was so bad to be away from Freydis.

Mostly when your hands matched so perfectly in his.

He had forgotten this feeling.

And he realized he had missed it.

And when you unlatched your hands, as you sat down, he couldn’t help but feel more hurt by that than the pain in his legs, that was starting to bother him.

As soon as the game was finished. he pushed himself by side, meanwhile you and Angelika waited for your children, to take his pills again.

He was caught mid-swallow by a laughing Eric as the boy limped lightly to him and you helped him, a blond boy beside him, who hid underneath Angelika’s legs and from the way their eyes shone of the same malice, he understood he was her child.

“Ivar! Ivar!” he called out, as he tugged gently onto one leg of his pants “… have you seen the way I got that ball?”.

You giggled at his excitement and Ivar couldn’t help but nod gingerly, although he didn’t know shit of soccer, and compliment his child on his optimal score, but Angelika’s child looked at him suspiciously before muttering softly.

“… your dad doesn’t know shit about soccer” he muttered, immediately getting both yours and Angelika’s attention.

“Phineas Christian Hogarth! I don’t pay an expensive German nanny for you to curse in American!” Angelika reprimanded him quickly, gripping tight onto his shoulders, as she saluted you, continuing her lecture “… at least do it in German!”.

But the deed was done.

And Eric looked confusedly at you and Ivar.

Ivar wasn’t so afraid of it all, in the end it only accelerated things, but you looked like you had had seen a ghost and Ivar quickly proposed going out to lunch to celebrate, hence shifting the attention away from the boiling revelation.

And Eric was all too happy to be distracted.

Even more with food.

But you looked still so shaken that he couldn’t help but feel like the tables had turned from the start of the day, with him being the confused one.

As you both sat down, finishing your lunch, as Eric escaped your attention to move onto the game section of the restaurant.

“… I am sure that he’ll forget about it, as soon as he can” he mumbled softly.

You were unfocused as your gaze didn’t shift from Eric, till you shook yourself away of it.

“Maybe…” you seemed doubtful, although Eric hadn’t said anything, proceeding to explain to Ivar everything that worked in soccer, as you drove them to a small restaurant, definitely chosen for the children area and menu.

He couldn’t help but think again about all the work you had done as a mother.

It certainly took all the courage of the world to grow a child on your own.

“… and would it be so wrong to if he had heard right?” he asked, and you petrified him on the spot with a tight look.

“That depends…” he had loved that teasing tone you’d use every time you were annoyed with somebody that wasn’t him “… will you stick around?”.

“I am trying to” he commented.

“And Freydis?” you were hitting low, he wasn’t surprised “… does she know about this?”.

And his eyes answered before his words and you pushed yourself back lightly as if you had lowered yourself too much in his psyche.

“… she knows” you simply mumbled.

“… and she doesn’t like” he added with the same grim tone “… she is also pregnant so…”.

“… so she thinks that Eric is threat to her child” you completed and Ivar couldn’t also deny that he had missed your immediate telepathy “… we won’t be pissed if you want to disappear, you can do it, I don’t…”.

“I don’t want to run away!” his voice raised lightly and the usual annoying old lady beside their table raised her head to hear them better, but Ivar immediately lowered his tone again “… I don’t do that… anymore”.

“But she is pissed” you mumbled, your tone almost guilty “… I could call her, explain how we aren’t… we aren’t involved and how…”.

“She has switched off her phone” he shot back.

“… doesn’t this sound familiar?”.

And yeah that did sound familiar.

It was the same that had happened when he had broken your heart.

“… yeah it does” as he raised his head to meet yours, he almost expected to see a satisfied smile on your face, but you looked honestly… sad for him.

“… she won’t leave you” you mumbled softly “… you didn’t break her heart”.

“I kind of think that hiding a family from her is not exactly the definition of caring for another”.

“And yet you were happy for the baby and you proved to her that you wanted it” you spoke softly, as if you had imagined the same with you “… she just needs to clear up her head”.

“It’s fucking strange that you are comforting me” he mumbled, unbelieving what you were doing.

“… well I am used to your fuck-ups” you giggled silly, shooting a look at Eric as you continued to be attentive at him “… but if she gives you another chance please don’t fuck this up, ok?”.

“Ok” he mumbled, before his gaze also shifted on Eric “… she wanted me to give up on Eric”.

“Don’t blame her” and he hadn’t expected it “… us, women, are put against each other as natural competitors, so it isn’t strange for her to feel threatened by me, although she has nothing to fear. She is the one with an engagement ring”.

“I also think it’s because you and me… we…” Gosh why was he acting like a teenage boy “… had sex back then”.

And you were also flushing.

“I am not interested in your adventurous sex life with Freydis… but don’t you also?”.

“No” why was he explaining your sex life with you “… you were the only one with who… you know… the doctors said that it’s the legs and some others told me it was just my confidence not being enough… the child was created in vitro”.

“Oh” you looked taken aback, and he could see that you were processing the thought of being the only one he had been with, in “that” way “… well I do say that she has a few reasons to detest me”.

He just nodded.

“… but I do think that she should be sure about your love” you added immediately a nostalgic tint in your pretty eyes.

“Why?”.

“Because I know for experience that when you fall for somebody you fall hard, and so deeply that it is difficult not to feel loved, even though you are an asshole and sometimes a bit too harsh with your words, but you have this thing that’ll make everyone feel like being loved by you is the greatest privilege ever”.

And like that you had come closer to him, maybe more than it should have been allowed between two ex-lovers, one of which was engaged.

But he couldn’t help but value attentively each word you said, as you gently pushed yourself back, as if you hadn’t revealed to him some special secret.

Back in it, he had always thought he was ‘the difficult one’ but with those words a veil of insecurities was lifted off his chest and he couldn’t help but think about how it would have been if he had stayed with you.

And for one moment, he almost wished it.

* * *

You had definitely gone mad that evening.

And you blamed it on the fact that Ivar’s behavior had simply brought you back to five years ago, when you’d walk together on the small playing field of school, usually with one trying to convince the other to ditch school.

It was mostly Ivar, but you had followed many times his dark influence.

And again, this time it had gotten to you.

But it had felt nice.

Except the entire Freydis’ thing.

You had honestly felt bad for her, almost guilty, although it was Ivar’s fault (and you had told him so, as you suggested what to do to calm her down), because she seemed as somebody extremely nice with the way Ivar described her and she shouldn’t have had somebody just barging in her life with a child that could shatter her relationship with Ivar.

Maybe you should have spoked with her, explaining that you weren’t a threat to her and her child in the slightest.

One day Ivar would have gotten tired of this toy and would have wanted a new one.

And yet, the way Ivar had reacted immediately when Eric had got hurt and the way he played almost naturally with him (even informing himself on ‘The Flash’) was genuine and you hoped it’d last.

You were coming back home, just in time for a shower and a dinner, since Eric had insisted to teach Ivar a few tricks with the balls in the nearby field and Ivar, although clumsily, had agreed, even going as far as to ask you to film him getting won over by your child.

Eric had fallen asleep on the field and you had had to use a bit of Ivar’s help to get him back in the car, as he asked you if you needed anything.

‘Just do me a favor and try calling again Freydis, she’s probably going to switch her phone soon, believe me’.

‘If it makes you sleep well at night…’ he had replied simply, shifting the sarcasm back onto you, and it had been… strange.

Although again, from what Ivar said, Freydis seemed nice, he had seemed to talk about her as somebody would of an idealized role-model, but with less passion and more analysis of why ‘she was such a good partner’.

But it wasn’t your place to judge.

You woke up Eric as you arrived at home, the big boy immediately attaching himself to you as a koala, as you pleaded with him to let you go.

‘Mommy is a frail gazelle, and you weight like an elephant!’.

‘Mommy you are more a lemur’.

‘You pass a few hours with Ivar and then you treat me like this!’ you had retorted before tickling him till he had asked for forgiveness and had been awake enough to walk on his own, helped by you, because due to the strain he had put himself through his legs hurt.

‘A quick bath will solve everything’ you had mumbled and as you had helped him clean himself, as he played absentmindedly with a small boat, he had asked the fateful question you had been waiting for him to ask:

“Is… Is Ivar my daddy?”.

You froze in your movements, although you had been waiting for that question since Phineas had pointed it out.

In the end Eric was a smart boy, he certainly wouldn’t have missed all the clues.

And you couldn’t lie anymore.

“Yes” you mumbled trying to keep your tone low, as you saw your child’s eyes brighten and immediately all that fear of your child being hurt scared you even more than the thought of him running away from you.

“Then why didn’t he tell me before?” he continued asking, curious enough to prove to you that he had inherited Ivar’s precious mind.

“Because I asked him not to” you mumbled gently, seeing immediately offense shining in his eyes “… you see me and your dad… we didn’t have a good relationship, your dad… your dad and I aren’t together”.

“Does that mean that he isn’t my daddy” his tone honestly broke your heart and you couldn’t help but be hurt by this yourself and you hurried to shush him softly.

“No no, he is, but…” you didn’t want to break your heart to your own child, but you couldn’t keep him in the shadows “:.. daddy has another child on the way and a woman who will become his wife soon, so he might… he might not want you to call him ‘daddy’ “.

You tried to be the most delicate possible, but you, yourself, were on the verge of tears and were grateful that Eric didn’t ask questions for a bit, as he seemed to think all over this.

“… but I’m your mom and he’s your daddy that means that we’ll always love you, even if we are a bit busy… “ you tried to sweeten everything “… don’t ever doubt that”.

He seemed to think about it again and as your heart was breaking you rushed to take him in a big hug, as he hugged you back immediately and you stayed like that till you felt a bit too cold for your drenched shirt, and gently moved your child away slightly to help him out of the bathtub.

As you were drying his hair, he finally spoke again.

“… but can I ask him if I can call him ‘daddy’, the next time we see him?”.

And you smiled at the sweetness of your boy.

“Of course, sweetie”.

* * *

Ivar had tried to call Freydis but again her phone was off.

He was halfway through asking Oleg to dig up his ‘sources’ to search her, when he walked back in the apartment and found her there, as if solely his positive thought had made her appear.

And he honestly had a few minutes in which he simply looked at her getting dinner ready thinking it might be a hallucination.

And as much as he had been worried, he couldn’t help but also be a bit disappointed by her presence.

And guilty for having spent the day with you.

She continued preparing of dinner, and Ivar took his sweet time adjusting everything about himself, such as getting out of his braces and pushing his light coat onto the coat-hanger, making less noise possible, as if a noise would have startled her into disappearing.

He felt like he was in trap, having no other option than to acknowledge her presence and she did the same with him.

With her usual smile as if nothing had happened.

But it only angered Ivar further.

“… where were you?” he asked, huffing out the question “… I was worried”.

“I was over at Ubbe’s house” and the affirmation hit Ivar in the guts, because he’d have expected his brother to at least say something, maybe to ease his smaller brother’s worries.

And worst of all: what would he have thought about Ivar letting his wife go.

“… I think we need to talk” he muttered, since Freydis was certainly ignoring the entire situation as if it hadn’t happened “… about what happened last night”.

And finally Freydis stopped her rummaging of the kitchen to look at him, her pretty clear eyes and her styled hair doing nothing of what they’d use to do on Ivar’s heart, as if it was frozen and not even her timeless beauty could make him feel better or less annoyed by her childish antics.

And her betrayal.

“I… I am sorry” mumbled Freydis, completely surprising him as he expected her to at least keep up her attitude of the previous night “… last night… I was… out of control”.

And what was worst of all was that deep down he felt annoyed by her apology.

As if he felt it wasn’t genuine.

He kept his mouth shut, playing the silence game with her as she stammered through what he’d have described as ‘excuses’:

“… I was a bit tipsy… and I… it’s shocking, isn’t it?”.

“Freydis, I am not…” he tried to formulate a thought that wouldn’t have made her feel attacked “… I am also not completely in the right, since I should have told you about it from the start but it was a shock for me too”.

“Well… but for me… think this like me, Ivar, please” she pleaded softly as she sat down in front of him “… you are pregnant and your fiancé finds out he had a child from a past relationship… would you have felt calm?”.

He certainly wouldn’t have been calm, but at the same time the possessive and mean way she had talked to him and about Eric.

“Certainly no, but I’d have asked for explanations” and then decided on the matter.

“… I wanted to, but then… you were so convinced to keep the baby in our life…” she was stammering again, as if her confusion was a sign of her heartbreak, the same way she had felt when she had discovered it “… and since you didn’t tell me I thought you wanted to keep it a secret, that you’d have discarded me for another…”.

And in that moment, finally, Freydis’ apology seemed genuine.

But mostly because he, himself could understand her train of thoughts: the worry of being replaced being one of his biggest fear.

And one hand shot out to hers to comfort her softly and she leaned in immediately.

“Freydis, I am not discarding you, I want you, I want you as my wife” he spoke, his tone slowing on every word, as she softly moved even closer to him, gently purring against his warmer body “… but Eric is my child and I don’t want to abandon him”.

And although Freydis hid well her annoyance to this, he still felt her stiffen against him, eventually getting her to simply nod, but she didn’t speak.

But it could have been worse.

And yet he thought about the afternoon with you…

… it could have been better.

* * *

You had managed to brighten Eric’s mood through a ‘rewatch’ of the ‘Small Avengers’ series and as the phone drilled, he immediately caught to get it, faking being Quicksilver, as your mother pretended to catch him.

But he dodged her quickly and got the ‘magical phone’, joking he had defeated Ultron as you and your mother faked being dead and defeated.

Eric proceeded to answer the phone, since he thought it might have been Phineas, calling him to chat about the game, since they usually would spend the afternoon together talking and they hadn’t been able to do it, today.

And you were very surprised when Eric thrilled an excitedly screamed: ‘mom it’s Ivar!’.

And you quickly ‘reanimated’ yourself and rushed for the phone, as your mother’s hands wrapped around Eric, and you moved to your room, in order to have a bit of privacy.

“Haven’t you had enough of us?” you joked, although you felt like choking.

“… maybe not” he shot back “… she came back”.

And Gosh it hurt.

Although you were aware that a relationship between you two wasn’t possible and you had made peace with that, still the notion that he had moved on, hurt you in a way that stole all the breath from your lungs.

It was impossible that already five years had passed.

“I am glad” your tone was pointed “… now don’t fuck it up”.

You were almost ready to close the phone in his face, when his voice kept on talking.

“I told her about Eric, and how I won’t abandon him, even though I am marrying her”.

That was unexpected, to say the least.

“… how did she take it?” you asked between tight teeth.

“Well… I think”.

“That doesn’t seem well” you shot back, with a sarcastic laugh.

“… it was either that or not being together” the ruthless voice Ivar had assumed made a shiver go down your spine “… now that I have finally found you, I am not giving up on you”.

He could have said ‘Eric’ or ‘him’ but he had chosen ‘you’.

You shouldn’t honestly overthink about it all…

… but you were overthinking it.

“Now can I talk with him?”.

Yeah, you shouldn’t overthink the entire thing.

“Just let me get him” you replied softly, as you found Eric with his ear against the door of your room “… we have had the talk”:

“That’s…” Ivar’s voice trembled lightly “… wonderful”.

You simply moved the phone onto Eric’s hands, unable to deal with this illusion any longer, as the child immediately giggled softly, and he greeted Ivar, sprinting off to his own room, but you could hear clearly when he called Ivar ‘daddy’.

And for the first time, in this whole mess, you thought that maybe it would have made less damage than you believed it would.


	5. The Story Of How Everything Went On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New revelations and new act of faiths might get you more confused about your newborn feelings for the father of your child.

Ivar had never had much luck with women.

But he had been blessed with a beautiful mother.

Aslaug was someone who would cherish her sons to the end of the world, blessed with four of them.

But they had not been four normal boys, but four constantly fighting men who wouldn’t hesitate a moment to give her a heart attack.

And although many more times it was Hvitserk, the bearer of bad news, this time it had to be him.

And what he might have to tell was worse than Hvitserk that time he had decided to open a bakery with his father’s money.

So, he thought it would have been better to tell her that he had a child, when she was sat down.

“Mom” he called out to her, as she moved around the kitchen checking that dishes were in their proper places and made sure sure that not a single crumb of bread was left in her kitchen.

She had always been a bit of a clean freak, but it had grown worse once they had all moved out of the house, mostly because of the fact that sadly she hadn’t much to do, having been an housewife all her life, although lately she had started to care for her garden.

And her roses looked the absolute prettiest.

He had thought that Eric would have loved playing there.

He might have suggested maybe getting it fixed with a swing or a soccer field for his son and his nephews, he was sure that Ubbe would have backed him up on that, although he was sure that he would have certainly gawked at the mention that Ivar had a child.

A child that wasn’t Freydis’.

A child that was with you, his best friend and high school sweetheart.

Yeah, he was sure that Aslaug would have had a heart attack, upon hearing it.

She had already had one when he had announced his engagement to Freydis.

She had come to him, meanwhile all the others congratulated Freydis and although she hadn’t explicitly told him that she didn’t approve it, she had tried to question him about it.

‘Are you sure, sweetheart?’

‘Because you are both so young’.

‘… and you haven’t been with each other for such a long time’.

‘Mom, you ran away with dad just a few days after you had met him’ he had interrupted her, not fully understanding why his own mother among all the people wouldn’t support his happiness.

‘Yes, that I did’ her face had scrunched up in a grimace ‘… and I have regretted it for the entire time. I just… I just wouldn’t want you the same mistake I did’.

And now he had to tell her that he had a five-year-old child, with another woman.

Well, she certainly would have been surprised.

Once she was sure there weren’t anything outside of its rightful place, she sat down onto the table, inviting him to do the same, as she interlaced her fingers with his, excited to know what her youngest was up to.

They had always been quite attached to the other, and he couldn’t picture his small family without her.

Hence, he had to confess her two things.

“… you remember that I and Freydis have been trying to have a child, right?” he started, thinking that this would be far less a surprise than him admitting that he had put a baby in you.

Aslaug already looked like she knew exactly where this was going.

She had always been far smarter than she let on.

She was the one reason why Ragnar hadn’t died in his thirties.

And why all her sons had reached maturity.

This honestly gave her amazing powers.

And he trusted her judgement.

“Freydis is pregnant, the last lab sample worked”.

Although Aslaugh didn’t look amazingly happy, she still smiled softly, as she brought him in a soft hug, kissing his forehead and congratulating him, glad to have more grandchildren, which had quickly become the joy of her life.

She had already loved Ubbe-but-truly-they-were-Bjorn’s child, and she had been trying to convince her still-single sons to settle down and give her more grandchildren.

(‘I might have already’ had mumbled Hvitserk, with a small smirk, before Aslaug had slapped him on the head and gave him a lesson on condoms).

(Ivar might have needed it, too).

So, even if she didn’t like Freydis, she would have loved her grandchild.

“Is Freydis alright?” she asked, moving with a full-on questioning “… has she already gone to some visits? Do you know the gender?”.

“Mom, she’s barely a few months along!” he tried to calm her down, although he was happy that his mother was so so excited about it.

“Sorry sweetie, but you know when I was pregnant with Ubbe that it’d be a boy” she commented softly “… hasn’t she felt anything? Has she?”.

“… and that isn’t the only news I have for you”.

And now came the hard part.

And Aslaug immediately noticed his uneasiness, and her hands moved away from his, as they gently caressed his face to make him stare at her in the eyes, trying to search them to understand what was going on in his mind.

She had always been extremely good at understanding him before even him himself.

But he honestly was sure that she would have never guessed the other news.

She had seen your relationship with you coming, and she had encouraged him to follow his crush.

Still she had tried to keep herself away from meddling with it, pushing herself in a rather cold attitude with you that had made you many times question yourself.

‘Are you sure that your mother doesn’t hate me’ you had questioned him once, when you had come to his house to hang out.

‘No, she just doesn’t like people’ he had replied, as he had tried to get you to sit on his lap, to calm you down.

‘… now I know where you got that’ you had mumbled, as you had finally allowed him to wrap his arms softly around your waist ‘… but still… I really hope that she doesn’t think badly of me’.

‘You shouldn’t worry of anybody’s opinion…’ he had muttered, as he had lightly shifted your hair to the side to kiss your neck ‘… except mine’.

‘But… I’m worried, about her opinion… I don’t want you to…’.

‘Sweetheart calm down!’ he had mumbled, kissing softly your lips ‘… nobody will make me change my mind’.

Yeah, that hadn’t been exactly true.

And he hated himself for it.

You were right in hating him.

Although lately you had been rather cordial towards each other and he would have dared saying that you were almost friends.

In the end he appreciated that you were nice with him for Eric’s sake.

“… mom I hope… this is something that is new also to me, but… I have a child” Aslaug looked at him confused, almost as if she expected him to either joke or clarify himself “… you remember (Y/N), right?”.

“Such a sweetheart” her smile pushed their tips in a light smirk “… but what does she have to do with all of this?”.

“I have a child with her” all the color was suddenly drained by Aslaug’s face “… we had sex on prom night, and I got her pregnant… and she didn’t tell me about the child till a few weeks ago”.

“Ivar Axel Lothbrock!” she exclaimed loudly, as she jumped up from the chair, which fell off because of the suddenness “… I didn’t think that this would be happening with you!”.

“Mom, calm down” Ivar tried to keep her quiet, not wanting his brothers to know about it, till he had talked it out firstly with his mother “… don’t strain yourself”.

“I thought it might happen with Hvitserk, I mean that boy… is a pest, but… you?!”.

“I know that I disappointed you” this seemed to calm her down, as she turned to face Ivar, who had ducked his down, incased between his shoulder blades, as if it weighted onto them.

“I am… just… surprised” she mumbled “… for how long have you hidden this from me?”.

“Not long, a month max, but… to my defense, I also discovered it recently” Ivar explained, as he felt his mom calming down a bit, as if she realized this situation wouldn’t go away.

So, she’d better accepting it quickly.

“You know that I and (Y/N) didn’t leave each other on the best terms…” because as much as you might have been heartbroken by him, he had been ten times grumpier than usually at your refusal of being contacted by him, after the ‘break-up’.

Now that he had calmed down, he thought that you had just done the best thing you could have done to protect yourself.

You were still doing it, whenever you’d retract from him, once the conversation between you two got too personal.

“… she hid the pregnancy because she was sure that I didn’t want to be a father, and… she has then moved away”.

“Yeah yeah, I remember, I was honestly surprised that they’d be moving, but I guess she just needed a bit of time and to get away” mused Aslaug, almost as if she knew herself “… does the baby…?”:

“Yeah, he was born with osteogenesis” he explained, his mother’s face softening, as she lightly retreated from him, almost hurt by it, and he thought honestly the worst of everything.

“… poor boy” she mumbled “… and poor (Y/N), things like this aren’t easy, even more when you are a single mother”.

And Ivar understood that she spoke from experience.

And that was what was making her so emotional.

It was like going through it again.

“She is very strong and she has taken care of him amazingly” he explained softly, trying to calm his mother, as Aslaug moved again closer, her eyes slightly shiny “… he is five… we are trying to set up this thing to be able to give him both a father and a mother”.

“Do you have a picture?” Aslaug’s voice was choked, and Ivar hurried to get his phone out “… I really would like to see my grandchild”.

He didn’t want to break her heart correcting her that he wasn’t sure you’d be approving of her calling Eric ‘her grandchild’ when you already had difficulties in accepting that Eric called him ‘dad’ now.

But for the moment, he had already had a rather traumatic discourse with his mother.

So, he got his phone out and showed him a few pictures of Eric he had taken from the last time they had hanged out together, at a park, where Eric had tried out a few goalkeeper’s moves with his dad, under your watchful gaze, although you had given the two boys a bit of alone time, going to grab a few things in the nearby stores.

In the photo Eric was standing on the bench, adjusting his braces, as he waved at Ivar.

And they also had one that you had taken of them together, after Eric pleaded you so that he could show ‘how cool his dad was’ to all his friends, something that had made you grimace a bit, but he had teared up a bit.

And so, did Aslaug as she saw it.

“… Gosh, he looks so adorable!” she commented, as she brought an hand to her mouth in surprise, a bit smile still appearing on it “… he seems a lot like you, when you were younger”.

“I do agree, but not the entire personality… you won’t believe it, but… he is all smiles and sweet words” he mumbled as Aslaug laughed lightly, looking at her son, before a bright light shone on her face.

And Ivar got worried.

“You should invite her for Thanksgiving” it wasn’t a proposal, it was an order “… she was always such a nice girl, well-mannered and sweet… I was surprised when she distanced herself…”.

“… mom, calm down” he told her “… we might have child together, but that doesn’t mean that we are together and that she’ll want to meet you”.

Honestly, his mother had been more excited about (Y/N) than Freydis.

And it was worrying that he too honestly had been also excited at the thought of you and Eric spending Thanksgiving with his family.

Like a true family.

Aslaug looked like a child who had been denied candies.

“Sweetie…” she softened her tone “… I understand the situation, but I’d like to meet my grandchild, obviously with her consent”.

He thought that asking you, wouldn’t have been certainly a bad idea.

Although he was already seeing your denial.

But worst of all: what would have Freydis thought about it?

Although she hadn’t made a huge deal anymore about Eric and you, preferring to just sweep the entire thing under the carpet, and focusing on her own pregnancy, she certainly wouldn’t have been too happy of this.

Even more when she had also been able to sense that Aslaug didn’t like her in the slightest.

But unlike you, she hadn’t bothered trying to impress Aslaug in the slightest.

She certainly respected her, but that was the end of it for her.

She had had Ivar in the end.

“… I’ll ask her, still don’t get your hopes too high” he tried to shut her expectations down, but Aslaug honestly looked like she had been given her Christmas’ gift before time.

“Ahhh, I already can’t believe that my youngest gave me a grandchild first” she commented, already too lost in her thoughts with a beautiful smile on her face “… can’t believe that he is also a sweetheart, don’t you have more photos with him?”.

And he let her watch a few more, before he caught somebody on the entrance of the kitchen, realizing that it was Sigurd, who sent him a rather dark look, as if saying ‘I want to talk with you’.

He left his mother, with the promise of telling her more about Eric, as he moved to join his brother for what he thought would be another sparring of wits, but Sigurd looked much more determined than usual.

“You got her pregnant?” he asked, and before Ivar knew it, his brother had quickly backed him up into a wall “… as if it wasn’t enough already breaking her heart”.

“You have no business in this, brother” he tried to advise him, molding his tone to be the coldest “… believe me”.

“No, I fucking have a lot of business in this…” he spoke, overcoming his voice, definitely bothered by all of this “… she used to be my best friend, and she fucking left the city, because you ruined her life!”.

“I didn’t ruin her life” he replied harshly, trying to push Sigurd away from him.

“Oh yeah… have you any idea how heartbroken she must have been for the fucking heartless joke you played on her, years ago? And think all of this multiplied because she got a baby from you, and baby that she took care on her own”.

Sigurd wasn’t wrong.

But if there was one thing that Ivar couldn’t stand in the slightest, was being put in front of his mistakes.

And being blamed so outwardly for it didn’t help you in the slightest.

“… it isn’t my fault that she didn’t tell me” he tried to reply, but it wasn’t of much help.

“I don’t blame her for that” Sigurd sneered at him “… I wouldn’t also to have a fucking screw up like you around my child”.

Ivar lurched for him, but he wasn’t able to do much, instead stumbling onto and almost falling in his face, barely able to see his brother running away from him.

But his words echoed in his head.

Because in the end…

… he wasn’t wrong.

* * *

You tried to adapt yourself to the thought of having to spend an entire day without Eric.

Which was something that you hadn’t had since you had become a mother.

And honestly, it scared you to death.

You had never been too far away from your child, at least not for an entire day, because no matter how tired you were, you’d stop at Eric’s room to kiss him and check on him.

And now you’d have to give him over for an entire day to Ivar.

You honestly didn’t want to do such thing, in the slightest.

He had suggested it, after it had been quite some time that he and Eric met and spent time, together.

Enough to convince you that he’d stay in Eric’s life.

And yours.

But yet, your irrational fears as a mother didn’t ease your mind and you felt horridly hollow at the sole thought of having to say goodbye to Eric, who was getting his backpack ready for the following day.

He had been so excited to spend the whole day and night with his dad that he had been counting down the days, constantly talking about what they’d do and how much ice cream he’d eat.

And you had had to send Ivar various texts on not letting Eric guilt-trip him into letting him eat what he wanted.

‘He’s very very cute, but you don’t have to give in to him’ and then you had followed up with ‘… you can do it, I have survived five years of this and so can you’.

You were also a bit worried for Freydis, mostly because as much as Ivar trusted her, she was a stranger to you.

A stranger whose life you were ‘sabotaging’.

So. you were honestly worried about her being the typical ‘evil stepmother’ although Ivar had reassured you that she didn’t mind Eric.

But you knew how women worked.

They said they ‘didn’t mind it’ and then they were storms.

And you didn’t want your son to be caught in the eye of the cyclone.

You had called her the previous day to check in with her, although you had been scared shitless of approaching her, not wanting to seem either demanding or a homewrecker.

She had sounded extremely calm on the phone, but she hadn’t seemed to mind it all too much truly, although she had been sharply gentle with you, impatient to close the conversation but she hadn’t certainly closed the phone in your face, which meant that she wanted to keep a conversation between you, two.

For which you were grateful.

But you were giving her your most treasured possession, your son.

And you hoped she would treat him the best.

And part of you was jealous of how fast your son had latched on Ivar.

Although you shouldn’t have been surprised.

He was his father, after all.

Even though you weren’t sure that being this close to Ivar was helpful or a good thing, in general.

Old emotions had been awakened since Ivar had come back in your life.

You knew that you shouldn’t have felt so so ashamed of the flames of your previous relationship still burning in your chest, but it was so strong that you weren’t able to shake it off, even more when Ivar was such a good father for Eric.

You were trying to shift your emotion behind that reason, but you knew that your old attraction was burning up again and you didn’t want for it brew more inside of your mind.

Although there weren’t many solutions.

Except pushing yourself in work and trying to breath new air.

Which was why you were also low key thankful of having been allowed a bit of free air from Eric, grateful that you’d be able to spend the afternoon with Sigurd, who had been asking you for a few days for a private meeting between you two.

‘It’s been too long since we last see each other, and now that we are in the same city, it’d be a shame for us to waste more space apart’.

And then Angelika had been already ordering a private booth in a small club, to pass the night as true single moms.

And although you didn’t want any quick hook-up, meeting new people might do you good.

At least to break the spell that Ivar had set on you.

Again.

You tried to ease the anxiety in your chest, as you finished folding Eric’s clothes, going to check out on him as you found him trying to push a few of his favorite toys in the already too big backpack.

“Are you sure that you’ll need all these toys?” you asked softly, with a small smirk, brightened by seeing that Eric hadn’t changed yet.

Change scared mothers, because it was a sign of growing up and your sunshine-beauty of a child, would soon be a grumpy teenager and even sooner, he’d be a man leaving your house.

And as much as you understood that it was normal and healthy, you’d miss your sweet boy.

“Yeah! Of course! I want to show dad all the cool stuff I have!” he muttered as if it was the most natural thing ever with Ivar’s determination shining in his eyes.

“Ahhh I don’t think that you’d need still to bring to dad your Avengers’ tower” you mumbled softly, fishing out the huge toy that didn’t allow his backpack to close, making him pout at you “… or maybe we could stuff it in another backpack?”.

“Yeah, I think that is the best option” he replied softly, with a thoughtful expression that made you push a few strands away from his face, as you raised lightly his chin to look at him in the eyes.

“You know that I love you more than everything in the universe?” you asked softly, crooking an eyebrow at him, who immediately moved to hug tightly your middle, as he smashed his face roughly on your stomach.

But you needed that contact.

And you were already on the verge of your tears.

“… you are my mom, of course I love you!” he mumbled, his voice lightly muffled by your clothes.

You wanted to tell him that you weren’t sure that he’d think that when he was some angsty teenager, but for now you beamed in your child’s sweetness, hoping that it’d stick with you for quite a bit.

At least it did brighten your day.

You moved to separate the toys that you would have to put in the new backpack, as you tried to remind him what he had to do when he arrived home.

‘Don’t forget to give Freydis the gift’ you reminded him, as you made sure that he had taken it, finding the small picture frame you had gotten her, as a peace offer ‘… and if you don’t feel comfortable, all you have to do is ask your dad to call me, ok?’.

‘Okie dokie, mom’ he muttered with a fake-annoyed tone, which made you smirk lightly at him, as you rushed to him to tickle him.

‘Did you just roll your eyes to me, young boy’ you teased him, as he tried to escape your grip, but you were stronger and eventually he just gave up, begging for forgiveness as you erupted in laughter.

‘… mom…’ he called out to you, as you both laid out on the bed ‘… I’ll miss you’.

You had to breathe deeply to stop yourself from crying, but eventually as you spoke up, your voice was still choked.

‘… I’ll miss you too, lovely’.

And then you rushed to finish getting ready, rushing to your car, as you helped Eric in the braces, making sure to have his pain medicine, a small note attached to it, although you had no doubt that Ivar was familiar with at least half of it.

You knew that he wouldn’t put Eric in harm’s way.

But still… mommy’s instincts were tough to fight.

As you arrived at Ivar’s apartment, you weren’t able to stop yourself from starting to panic internally, something that Eric probably felt, gripping your hand tighter to comfort you, something for which you were grateful.

You moved to the proper apartment, taking in the beautiful design of the house, much more expensive that the shithole you lived in, and much bigger, something that made you question as always if you had been stupid in denying Eric the life that Ivar could have offered him.

You were brought back by this as the door of the apartment opened to reveal a pretty blonde woman, dressed in a rather elegant assemble that complimented her lean body, matching her natural color.

You were honestly feeling a potato in your comfortable jeans and the hoodie of your high school.

“You must be (Y/N)” you nodded, almost as if it had been an order, although the blonde woman had been extremely gentle, a soft smile on her lips as she looked at Eric, who had moved behind you, trying to hide himself, a bit shy “… and you must be Eric, Ivar has told me a lot about you! Please enter”.

“Ahh thank you!” you mumbled softly, indeed coming inside, as you led Eric with you, trying to coo him out of his shyness bubble “… and please excuse Eric… he is a sweetheart, but a shy one”.

“Totally got that from his father” replied gently Freydis, no sign of the woman that had considered Eric’s baggage in sight, but you still didn’t feel comfortable talking with her alone.

“Is Ivar… out?” you didn’t want to sound annoying or demanding, but you wouldn’t have left Eric with her, because although she seemed the gentlest sweetheart, you didn’t know her fully.

Not as you did with Ivar.

“He is in his study, got a call at the very last minute” she explained, with a light huff “… always at his phone… that man”.

“He isn’t one for much fun” you joined in, remembering that about him also in high school “… all business and no pleasure… if I remember, right?”.

“That’s my fiancé” Freydis giggled and although she hadn’t meant anything harsher in her tone, her words were definitely sharp and cutting.

Telling you that Ivar was her fiancé although he might be Eric’s dad.

“… don’t worry, it won’t take too much” she then added, looking also at Eric, who had finally exited his shell and was looking at her with questioning eyes, wanting to definitely meet his dad and play games “… in the meanwhile, please do sit! And can I get you a drink?”.

“Ahem… no, I am actually meeting with a friend, for a coffee, but thank you”.

Polite and curtsy small talk, meaning nothing, because you couldn’t help but feel that, although Freydis wasn’t being actively mean with you, you were walking on a mined camp.

But Eric took in the offer of sitting, mostly because he wasn’t used to standing up too long after he had been sat in the car, plumping down on a chair with such noise that you couldn’t help but send him a reprimanding look, worried of what Freydis might think of that, but she was on the kitchen counter, pouring a bit of water for herself.

There weren’t much traces of her pregnancy, but a slight roundness on her, with her looking like the portrait of the ‘perfect and radiant pregnant woman’, whereas your pregnancy had been quite tough on you.

And as much as you were a bit jealous of her, you couldn’t help but be glad that she was having a nice pregnancy, because you knew how much of a mental and physical toll it could be.

Although it was absolutely worth in the end.

“… congratulations, by the way! I hope you won’t mind me saying it, but Ivar told me the great news” she wasn’t able to hide the surprise in his eyes, and you softened a bit more your tone “… the first three months are the rougher, believe me”.

And then you got used to feeling like a beached whale.

“… I really hope, I haven’t been sleeping a morning without…” and then she shot a slight look at Eric.

“I can’t truly believe it! You look stunning!” you tried to reassure her, avoiding thinking about the strangeness of this entire thing “… believe me when I was pregnant with this little monster, he wouldn’t let me do much more than to stand on the sofa”.

She laughed softly, and you couldn’t help but see why Ivar had fallen in love with her: she was a nice soft breeze of air, and he honestly deserved it, after everything that had gone through his life.

“… mom!” complained Eric, sending you an embarrassed look, as you and Freydis laughed softly.

And then he remembered about the gift, quickly getting it out of his backpack as he moved to reach Freydis halfway, who crouched down to the boy’s height and thanked him when she received the wrapped gift.

She unwrapped it quickly, as you held your breath, hoping she’d like it and wouldn’t treat your boy as her own Cinderella once you were out of the door.

She was extremely surprised by it, and seemed to quite like it, kissing Eric’s cheek to thank him, as he blushed redder, something that immediately reminded you of Ivar.

Who, almost as if he had been summoned, entered the room, in that moment.

Eric’s eyes immediately brightened as he rushed to him, making Ivar smirk as he brought him up in a swirling hug, which made you and Freydis screech in horror, both worried for your boys.

But then Ivar settled him down, smacking a sound kiss on his face as Eric washed it off, acting as ‘a true man’.

You’d have to have a talk with Eric about toxic masculinity.

“… hey champ!” Ivar mused, before he saluted you softly, shooting a small look at Freydis to check in with her, and she smiled stretching the smile on her face, as she tried to busy herself to move away, leaving you a bit of privacy “… sorry for being late, I had an urgent phone call”.

“Don’t worry” you shut him off slightly, because today you’d be trying to extinguish the small flames he had left in your heart “… I have left a change in his backpack, but if you need anything, my mom is at home and if you have any questions, you have my phone number…”.

“Gotcha, (Y/N)” he mumbled with a wicked look in his eyes.

“I am not being overbearing” you replied tightly, as he simply sent you a sarcastic look “… try having a child and then we’ll see, and I really hope it won’t turn in a girl or you won’t ever let her date”.

“Of course, I won’t… I know how horrible boys can be” and you couldn’t help but realize that he was talking about himself “… but in the meanwhile, get some fun, mother hen”.

“Please don’t lose my child” you teased him and he simply sent you an annoyed look, before it softened up once Eric asked him whether he could have ice cream, and Ivar agreed, ignoring blatantly your suggestion “… I’ll think about you as I sleep peacefully, meanwhile you are cursed with a little sugar-high demon”.

“Your mom just has the best humor, doesn’t she?” retorted Ivar as he and Eric shared a conspiratorial look, and you could just pout softly at them both.

“Ok, now I’ll go, and I’ll leave you to your male bonding” you gently mocked them “… have a nice time and you got my number”.

“Don’t worry, just have a relaxing day” he mumbled softly with a small look “… and if you have a quiet moment, tomorrow when you come and pick him up we could grab a coffee, I have a thing to ask you”.

Which spurred on your anxiety, but you nodded, giving one last kiss at Eric, who wiped it away trying to appear all tough again, but his eyes didn’t leave you till the door closed behind you.

The sound was so shocking that it hit you.

You wouldn’t have your son for an entire day, and it was already crushing your soul.

In the end you ran away, trying to think that you’d see him tomorrow.

And that right now you had a friend to meet.

And you hoped that’d make you feel better.

* * *

And how wrong were you.

Sigurd had arrived lightly late and from the start you had been able to catch the fact that he was nervous, but you had thought he was simply scared of meeting a friend he hadn’t seen in quite a bit of time.

And then you realized that he was actually irritated. 

And after the usual ‘hey how are you’ ‘long time no see’, he had gotten down to business.

“Why didn’t you tell me that Ivar and you had a child?”.

And you were taken aback, wondering how he had discovered it.

Ivar hadn’t told you anything, about having told his family about Eric.

You had both agreed upon not telling his brothers, although he had told you that he had wanted to communicate it to his mother, alongside Freydis’ pregnancy.

‘If she gets an heartattack don’t blame it on me’ you had muttered it when he had explained you his decision, and he had simply smirked back.

“… Sigurd… we weren’t on talking terms” you explained softly, because it was the truth.

Not only, since you had discovered of the pregnancy, you had distanced yourself from the Lothbrock family, but you were sure that if you had told anything to Sigurd he wouldn’t have been able to keep his mouth shut.

And you hadn’t wanted Ivar to know about your pregnancy, back then.

Sigurd had been one of your best friends back then, but he hadn’t also reached out to you when you had started distancing yourself after Ivar had broken your heart, so it wasn’t completely your fault and you told him to intimating him to lower his voice.

“… I came here to have a nice coffee with a friend who I haven’t seen in a lot of time” you explained, your voice grounding him back to reality “… not to be insulted for choices that he had no business in”.

That seemed to get to him, and he apologized with a dark look of sadness on his face.

Although he and Ivar were at each other’s throat 24/7, they were so so damnably similar that you understood completely why they constantly fought against each other.

They had both this pendant to assume the worst about others.

“… I am sorry, I just…” he looked at his hands to shift his gaze away from you “… I am shocked, I didn’t expect… that to happen… I mean… it’s Ivar… he has…”.

“Believe me, Sigurd, it worked, at least once” you commented, knowing where he was going at “… I have a lot of proof of it, if you are asking for confirmation”.

“No no, I know that, don’t worry” mumbled glowing red Sigurd “… it is just that… I mean… I just can’t believe that he got lucky enough to have a son with you and that… and that you chose not to let him know”.

“Sigurd, he told me that he didn’t love me, anymore” you explained to him “… that child was mine, and not his”.

“Then why are you allowing him to see Eric?” he inquired, with a raised brow.

“… because he is his father, as much as Ivar broke my heart” you explained and although at first you had found it difficult to say it, now it was as natural as breathing “… I don’t think that I need Ivar to raise Eric, but… I can’t hide him for ever, and Eric deserves to know”.

Sigurd nodded, as he seemed to think about it, before he finally let out a breath.

“I just… I just hoped he hadn’t chosen to break your heart” he mumbled, and you couldn’t help but agree “… like it’d have been nice to have you in our family and not that gold digger”.

“Sigurd!” you reprimanded him, immediately, with a rather harsh look at him.

“Oh c’mon! They have been together for a few months and she was like ‘let’s get married’ and then ‘let’s have a child’ “ mumbled annoyedly Sigurd.

“… or maybe she simply loves him” you commented, as Sigurd sent you a disbelieving look.

“… or she loves his money” he corrected you.

“Are you saying this because it is the truth? Or because you are jealous of Ivar?” you joked softly, kicking him under the table “… because if he is happy, you shouldn’t be this grumpy”.

“Are you seriously happy that he is moving on and making a family with somebody else?”.

The question stole your hair from your lungs, but you tried not to show it to him.

“… yes, of course, Sigurd!” you mumbled, trying to hype up your energy “… we were high school sweethearts, but an entire life has passed since then, I do understand that he has moved on. And I have, too”.

Except you hadn’t.

But you had to.

“I still think that he is a fucking idiot for leaving you” grumped out Sigurd, as he lowered his eyes, but some semblance of peace was regained, as you finally managed to shift the discourse away from Ivar’s stupidity.

Sigurd wanted to see Eric and you were more than happy to show him through photos, as he informed you that his mother did indeed know of Eric and was excited about the news and you couldn’t help but find it difficult to picture Mrs. Lothbrock excited.

She had always had this haughty air about her that made you feel at extreme unease with her, even more when you had started sneaking around with Ivar and each time she caught you in the house, she’d look at you with this stare ‘I know how badly you corrupted my son’.

You hadn’t thought that she’d have been ecstatic of knowing that you and Ivar had been irresponsible enough to have a child, but according to Sigurd, she wanted to meet her ‘grandchildren’.

Which brought literal chills to move down your spine.

You appreciated that she wanted to be involved, but at the same time… it was just too much.

And you had been glad when Sigurd had shifted the theme of the conversation onto himself, and you were all too happy to be distracted by his horrifying music career, as you teased him for it.

But this coffee left a bad taste in your mouth.

Because suddenly Eric wasn’t anymore your secret.

And as much as you were glad for more people around you…

… it also meant they might leave you.

And you’d be heartbroken again.

But it’d be worse now, because they’d also leave Eric heartbroken.

* * *

In the end Ivar found out that you were right: Eric was a monster after having eaten ice cream as an afternoon snack and after dinner, but Ivar honestly knew that he couldn’t deny his child much.

At least to make up for the lost time.

They had played all afternoon, after he had threatened Heahmund to tell him to avoid bothering him with anything work-related for the rest of the day, since he wanted to play with his son.

And played they did, going even outside in the small apartment’s private garden to try out some soccer moves, as Freydis got everything ready, pointedly avoiding to look at them, together.

What she didn’t say, except with her eyes was ‘… I don’t have a problem with your bastard, but I don’t want to be part of this… at least for now’.

But he had been rather thankful for your gentleness with Freydis and for the respect he had felt between you two.

He hadn’t honestly expected for it to go this well, so he wasn’t certainly going to complain.

Although he was tired, wanting to straight up go to bed, after he had managed to make Eric fall asleep, he still did his best to adjust the mess of toys in the sitting room, before he joined Freydis in their bed.

She was finishing up getting ready, dosing her body with her usual lotions, a soft smile filling the room in a rather pleasing matter, immediately relaxing him as he moved to the bed, keeping his keen eyes on her.

She was slender, maybe a bit more than you could ever be, and graceful enough that nothing in her seemed out of place, and she was damnably beautiful.

But strangely, she had no effect on him.

Although he had noticed her for her beauty when she had accidentally smashed a cup of coffee on him, as she was rushing to her first day of work, he couldn’t get further than that.

She was beautiful, sweet and gentle.

But at the same time there was almost a block between him and her.

And he hoped that the marriage and the baby might help him developing this relationship further, because right now he felt stuck.

And he knew that Freydis was feeling it too.

Even more since you and Eric had appeared again.

He could see it in the way she felt threatened by your appearance.

He sometimes wished that his stupid prick would just work, so that he could give Freydis a part of him properly.

But sadly, he couldn’t.

And Freydis’ badly hidden sadness didn’t help, as she set beside him in bed, comfortably.

“Did you have fun?” she asked softly, as she turned to him, meanwhile he plugged in his phone and set up the alarm for the following day, pretty late since it was Saturday.

“Yes, I did” he mumbled, as he unbuckled his braces, having helped Eric through his, before he got him to swallow his medicine “… it was tiring but satisfying”.

“It’ll be definitely useful for the future” commented gingerly Freydis, as she moved to grab one of his hands, and pushed it onto her barely rounded stomach, as she smiled up to him “… you seemed a pretty amazing dad with Eric”.

“Ahh I am just trying my best” he commented, as he moved to face her, finally slipping under the covers, as he switched off the main lights, keeping on only the lamp on the bedside table “… he is a sweet boy”.

“That he is” she replied, although he could see that Freydis’ face was a bit shadowed “… (Y/N) did an amazing thing… and all on her own!”.

He didn’t know why but Freydis’ words hit him profoundly, stroking a rage on his chest, because he couldn’t help but feel like they had a double-meaning.

As if they weren’t exactly truthful.

But he tried to ignore it.

Freydis had honestly every right to be angry at him for what had happened with you, and he’d tolerate it, because he had done wrong in not telling her and in keeping things from her.

But he wouldn’t regret you or Eric.

He certainly wouldn’t have, when speaking with Freydis seemed so insidious.

He remembered the soft exchange of words before you had left Eric to him, the easiness with which he was starting to speak with you again, as you smiled softly, taking care of your child as if it was the most brilliant thing ever.

Not that you didn’t have awkward moments.

But talking with you had always been as easy as breathing with him.

And he had thought that he would have felt the same with Freydis this, but slowly… he just…

He again hoped that the child and the wedding would change everything, because he was so damnably in love with Freydis: she was the woman of his dreams and the woman he had always wanted.

But at the same time, he couldn’t deny that some parts of him still loved you.

And that wasn’t something that was ever going to change now that you were with him.

And this might be quite troublesome.

He brought Freydis closer to him, softly shushing her and wishing her ‘goodnight’, as he switched off the lamp on the bedside table and tried to rest his mind.

But sadly, there wasn’t any rest for the wicked.

* * *

The following morning you came to pick up Eric.

You didn’t look exactly ‘awake’, but from the look on your face and the huge sunglasses you were wearing, Ivar assumed that you had probably partied a bit last night.

And some part of him, which he quickly shoved down, couldn’t help but be… jealous and possessive of you, although he laid no claim to you.

You were a free woman, who was more than allowed to do what you wanted.

And he had a fiancé.

And a child on the way.

And yet he asked himself whether you had been hanging out with a simple friend or you had brought somebody home.

He justified as simple worry for Eric and his wellbeing.

He didn’t want him to grow among unknown men crashing on your couch.

As Freydis saw you, she immediately offered you coffee again, being shut down by a soft ‘no’, as Eric immediately appeared in the kitchen in his superhero pajama, shooting himself in your arms, as you giggled a bit startled.

“Hey, little captain America, I was gone just for a day” but with the way your lips crooked up he knew that you were happy that he had missed you “… but I am glad to see you too”.

And then you shot up a quick look at Freydis and Ivar, who were sat down on the kitchen table readying everything for breakfast.

“… I hope he wasn’t too much to handle” you apologized softly as he gently asked to be picked up, which you did as if it was the most normal thing.

“He was a complete sweetheart” answered Freydis for both, because Ivar was completely taken aback by the motherly charm you were exuding, interrupted by Freydis’ loving hands settling on his “… wasn’t he?”.

“He was” added Ivar, as he insisted for you to join them for breakfast, since Eric had woken up late, alongside his parents, so it’d take him a bit for getting ready “… and you really look like you could use a cup of coffee”.

“… maybe” you agreed, eventually letting go of your monkey who set himself on the table, meanwhile Freydis collected another chair for you, as she asked to Eric what he preferred to eat for breakfast.

“… and you aren’t allowed to say ice cream” reprimanded him softly Ivar, immediately getting a pout from his child, showing him that a bit of ‘his most annoying’ genes had been passed down to the boy, alongside his pretty eyes “… but we have the corn flakes you like, don’t we Freydis?”.

The woman immediately nodded, as she passed you the chair, for which you thanked her, asking if you could help her with something, as she asked if you could help her with coffee, already getting a few mugs out.

The breakfast was calm, although an awkward silence filled the air, meanwhile you spoke softly with Eric, checking if he had taken his medicine and if his legs had hurt the previous night, as he excitedly told you about how he had taught Ivar new soccer moves.

“Oh it is good that you are making him do some exercise” you mumbled jokingly, as you turned to Ivar “… or he wouldn’t get enough nonr, he used to avoid PE as if it was the plague”.

“That was low” replied Ivar darkly, but his eyes sparkled with amusement, as he felt Freydis scrunching up her eyebrows, unaware of this, as Eric just asked if he could also ‘skip PE’.

“… and it backfired” you commented as you proceeded to explain to Eric the importance of PE, as Freydis kept on throwing daggers at Ivar, with her eyes, which he ignored, till you eventually had to leave, offering to help Eric pack up.

“Is there anything else that you haven’t told me?” asked Freydis, as she linked one of her arms with his.

“I don’t think, sweetheart” he tried to escape this awkward conversation “… we used to be best friends, so it is pretty normal that she knows those things about me”.

“Well yeah, that’s what best friends are there for, isn’t it?” she asked what looked like a trap question and he simply nodded, immediately taking the chance to accompany you to the car.

Where another harsh conversation was to be held.

You set up Eric on the back of the car, helping him to get out of his braces and his seat, as Ivar held the door for you, eventually managing to face you as you checked a bit more on how Eric had felt and if he had created any trouble.

“.. and I have to ask you another favor”,

“Is this about coming to Thanksgiving to your mother?” you surprised him, and he had to take a few minutes before he replied to you.

“… ahem… how do you…?”.

“Sigurd…” you explained, as he immediately was annoyed “… I met him for a coffee, yesterday…”.

“You met with Sigurd?” he asked you, extremely confused.

And he had to admit it, slightly annoyed.

“He was my friend, before we were even friends!” you retorted, catching his tone, almost as if you were justifying yourself “… and my answer is that I’ll think about it”.

“My mom is just… excited about having a grandchild” he mumbled, almost as if he was the one who had to justify himself.

“She just has to wait for another seven months and she’ll get one” you commented, with a tiny knowing smirk that he had always found the sexiest “… and she doesn’t even like me, even more now that she knows about Eric, probably…”.

“She never hated you!” replied exasperated Ivar “… and she is excited to see Eric, but… I understand if you don’t feel like that”.

“I’ll think about it” you simply repeated again, before saluting him, as you got in the car, making Eric wave at him, till you were lost in the horizon.

And he couldn’t help but hate the thought of you leaving.

* * *

Eric sang for the entire on the road back home, much to your hangover head.

But you were glad to have him back in your arms.

Although a night without him had been quite more pleasurable than you had thought…

… till the following morning you had woken up with a full-blown hangover, some random guy’s number in your phone with the note ‘call me’, although you were sure that you’d never do it.

In fact, not even a few harmless chats with the guys in the club that Angelika had brought you in had broken you away from your attraction towards Ivar.

Hence you had grown quite heavy with the alcohol.

But at least the hangover had avoided making you think about him.

Maybe you should have seriously thanked Angelika.

Although you doubted she’d be up right now, since not only her son was at her father’s house on the weekends, but she had gone back home with a pretty young thing last night, after she had accompanied you back home.

Your mother had caught you in your stumbling steps and had simply helped you to settle in bed, mumbling something about ‘having enough children, these days’ but she had left water by your beside table.

Which you had needed, because you had woken up with a sore throat, suddenly remembering about the first time you had drunk something remotely alcoholic.

It had happened at the Lothbrocks’ house.

They had always bene a terrible influence on you.

Ragnar had come back from one of his ‘trips’ and he had brought over a bottle of some awful Nordic liquor, which you had downed alongside the brothers as you played a rather version of ‘never have I ever’.

And luckily for you, half of the questions where sexual, so you had drunk.

A lot.

To the point that Ivar had insisted on you staying over, before you were even together.

Not that he had much choice, you had fallen asleep on his bed a few minutes after he had bought you to his room.

It had been the first of many nights spent together.

And the missing figure of his body against you, hurt you.

A month ago, you wouldn’t have cared.

But having Ivar so close to you and Eric…

… it almost made you think about what you could have been.

And what he would be with Freydis’ child.

You were truly happy for her.

She was sweet and gorgeous, what more could Ivar want?

A single mom who was a complete and utter mess wasn’t seriously something anybody might have been interested in.

Eric called out your name and you immediately shook yourself from your thought, realizing that you had actually arrived home.

“Oh Gosh” you were glad that your own hands had been much more functional than your awful brain “… we are here, already”.

“Mommy, are you hurt?” asked worried Eric, seeing you grimacing a bit because of the tiredness in your limbs.

Honestly, it wasn’t supposed to be that heavy on you.

You weren’t that old after all… you hoped.

“No, no sweetie” ‘my heart just decided to break itself on useless memories’ “… what about you? Do your legs bother you?”.

“No no” he chanted, with a happy smile on his face “… I am just a bit tired”.

“Are you saying that because you are truly tired or because you don’t want to do your homework?”.

“Daddy didn’t make me do any homework yesterday!” he tried to protest, just to be frozen by your harsh gaze.

Even hangover you knew how to handle the temper he had inherited from Ivar.

“… and that is why you shall do some today” you commented, as you moved to exit the car and collect him, helping him with his braces and in getting up, as he brought his backpack with him “… not too many, if you promise not to protest too much”.

“I swear that I won’t talk as Loki, when they stitched his mouth close” he promised, zipping his mouth, as you sent him a worried look.

“A rather gruesome story…” she mumbled softly “… I’ll have a talk with your father about it”.

“He said you wouldn’t have approved” he commented, with that smartass smirk his father had as well.

“… but he still told you” you grumped more on yourself than on anything else.

You and Eric arrived at home, your mother welcoming you back, as she hugged her beloved grandchild, something that reminded you of the conversation that you had last had with Ivar about Aslaug.

Your mother loved Eric with all her heart, it was her grandchild.

And had the situation been reversed, had you been the one who had just discovered of your child… you would have wanted your mother to know him.

In the end Ivar would always do as he preferred.

And get people to bow for him.

Part of you wanted to almost refuse his offer to let Aslaug meet your son, because of that.

But… it wouldn’t have been fair… to the poor woman.

As much as you didn’t find particular interest in Aslaug and in her liking you, your younger self had always tried to appease to her, both because she meant so much to Ivar, but also because you admired her.

She was a single mom too, with four children, one of which born with a rare genetic disease, handling an absent father and constant fights among her children.

And she always looked damnably classy, with her stylish clothes and her ironic gaze.

You had always been scared of her.

And you were still, a bit.

But you had grown.

You were yourself a single mother, maybe less stylish than her.

You were doing it for her, not for Ivar.

And that was what you kept on saying to yourself, as you asked to a wondering Eric.

“Would you like to know your other grandma, little one?”.


	6. The Story Of How Everything Met The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally the Thanksgving Day has come and you have to endure a family lunch with your past lover, which might bring back more feelings and insecurities than you have ever thought.

You set up the umpteenth outfit for the following morning, eventually choosing your more elegant pair of jeans, black and high-waisted, matched to a white sweater with a V-neck cleavage, elegant but not matronly.

Would it be enough to impress Aslaug, the ice queen?

You shook your head annoyed with yourself and with your overthinking.

From the start of this week you had told yourself that you wouldn’t have stressed yourself out for the Thanksgiving you had to pass at the Lothbrock house, although you had promised yourself to appear in your best shape.

And yet, the entire week you had done nothing more than set up things and ideas for it, getting your luggage ready on Tuesday, meanwhile you got Eric to be in his bed early tonight so that you could check it to make sure you had everything you needed.

It would have been one sole day, but you had still packed a small baggage mostly for Eric, with a few change of clothes (four, precisely) and a more elegant set of clothes, although Ivar had promised you it’d be extremely informal.

But you remembered perfectly that Aslaug’s idea of informal were elegant vintage dresses, giving her the look of a desperate housewife out of a ‘50s commercial, but with eyes of pure steel and a smirk that could petrify anybody on who it was set on.

When you weren’t busy being afraid of her judgement for your uncured clothes and dirty hair, when you were younger, you admired her dearly.

But you knew she didn’t like you very much.

She and Ivar always had a strong relationship and you were sure that one of the many reasons why she didn’t like you truly, as any girl that Ivar might have brought her home, was that you had stolen her smaller son for quite some time.

So, you shouldn’t have been worried, in the slightest, about it anymore.

Although you and Ivar had a child together, he undoubtedly had no intention of bringing you back home to him or of creating a relationship with you.

But you were still scared shitless of her judgement.

You were halfway through setting up another possible combination of clothes, when your phone thrilled awake under the pile of clothes on your bed, and you went to answer it, noticing it was Ivar.

You almost hoped he’d tell you that he was sorry but the entire Thanksgiving lunch had been postponed.

But you got another kind of ‘bad’ news:

‘… Freydis has had… an urgent appointment’ he explained, his voice clearly showing some kind of worry, but at the same time… it almost didn’t feel authentic.

His voice was mechanical, but you blamed it on the phone.

‘… she has started bleeding this afternoon. The doctor says it isn’t anything worrying, but he wants her to avoid travelling and to keep her relaxed during this time’.

You had your own experience of bleeding a bit during your own pregnancy, so you could understand the doctor’s worry and you hoped that she’d be fine, saying so to Ivar as you explained that it was totally fine.

And that it wouldn’t have been a problem for you to cancel your planed for Thanksgiving.

You’d just have to postpone the meeting with Aslaug to another day.

‘… actually, about that…’ the tip of his tongue seemed heavy, almost slurring his words ‘… I don’t want to… it won’t cange anything… Freydis won’t simply be with us’.

You were extremely surprised by that admission as you tried to understand, why would Ivar come with you to his mother, when his pregnant fiancée was troubled with her pregnancy.

Although you knew it wasn’t your place

And Ivar seemed to feel your question.

‘I have tried… to tell Freydis that I feel more comfortable staying, but she won’t… she says that I am a fretting animal whenever she is sick… so she told me that it’d be better for health if I visit my mom’ Ivar’s voice was calm, almost as if he thought that Freydis’ request was normal and he accepted it easily.

Which contrasted perfectly with the way you remembered Ivar.

Back when you had been nothing more than a couple of friends, Ivar was always worried whenever you got minimally sick, although he was extremely grumpy about it, since he could be quite difficult with his emotions.

Once you had needed a small daily check-up at the hospital, and Ivar had literally hounded your bed, although your mother had been right there with you, leaving you two alone, as soon as she had noticed Ivar and that he wouldn’t back it up.

So, it felt strange that Ivar, the big and tough alpha man he had been taught to be, didn’t even try to protest against Freydis’ choice, when she was much pregnant with his pup and when she was the love of his life.

… unless…

… unless she wasn’t truly the love of his life.

But this was your idiotic brain trying to ease the slight and irrational jealousy you had been feeling, which had started when you had met Freydis and your heart had started beating again for Ivar.

But you were aware that it wasn’t useful in the slightest.

It hadn’t worked the first time.

Why would it work this time?

‘… I know that I seem awful’ he read your mind ‘… but Freydis will have a friend coming over to check on her and I think that I’ll stay till lunch and then go back home, immediately. She’ll let me know if anything bad will happen’.

In the end Ivar’s tone seemed extremely honest and you didn’t feel like mingling in his own relationship’s issues, aware that although you shared a son, you certainly didn’t have any more right to share his life and to know his own private details.

‘I can come and pick you up, if you don’t want to travel alone’ you proposed, although you regretted the words the moment you voiced them, knowing that they broke the second rule you had given yourself that week.

‘Don’t come too close to Ivar’.

No matter what.

And not again.

‘… that’d be nice’ his own voice held surprise and for a moment you almost expected him to reject the idea, insisting on that awfully toxic idea that he was an independent man who needed nobody’s help.

But he surprised you.

‘… I would actually like it, if you aren’t bothered by driving. I can pay for gas’.

‘There is no need for it’ you muttered lightly ‘… you already paid the medical bill this week’.

Which had been great, since you had been able to arrive to another month without adding some further debt to your whole life, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but question yourself and your decision.

Had you been a good mother?

Could have Ivar given Eric more?

‘… well, we’ll see tomorrow’ he commented and you could already picture that small smirk he had on his face in that moment, sure that he’d win also this argument, but not without a fight ‘… in the meanwhile, I’ll go to sleep to wake up tomorrow at 7 a.m. and you can swing in here by 8… or I can come to you…’.

‘I’ll come to you’ you suggested since Ivar’s house was on the road for Aslaug’s house a two hour ride that you had studied alongside other details about how much you remembered of the house and whether it was proper or not to nominate Ragnar in front of the whole family.

Sigurd had helped with a few things, although he had told you he wouldn’t be there on, since he had better things to do, which meant he had small Thanksgiving gig in a bar in the city.

And free alcohol as a payment could be quite convincing.

After receiving all the news of that night, you also should have indulged yourself in a glass of wine.

But you wanted to wake up at a decent hour tomorrow.

With no hangover, again.

In the end you went to check on Eric, finding him effectively asleep, which surprised you since he could be reckless and wouldn’t go to sleep till all his energy was out of his body, and today he had been quite excited to meet his grandma.

He must have taken your suggestion about ‘going to sleep earlier, to make the morning come faster’ seriously, something that made you smirk a bit as you gently moved to collect his crutches left on the floor, gently caressing his dark hair, as you kissed his forehead.

In the end, although your heart was slowly breaking, it was all worth it.

Overthinking comprehended.

* * *

Ivar had been truly worried about leaving Freydis alone.

Although it seemed more something that he did to avoid others’ judgement than for his own worry.

Almost as if he knew he shouldn’t have left her, and deep down he felt bad about leaving her…

… but it wasn’t for the right motives.

It was guilt, not love, making him act like that.

And he was sure that that should tell him much about his relationship with Freydis.

Lately he had been questioning it, although he knew he was toying a dangerous line, even more when their wedding was so close, since Freydis had chosen to pull it closer since she would have soon been ‘heavy with his child’ and she didn’t want that to ruin the wedding.

He had suggested that they simply postponed to after her pregnancy, but Freydis had literally shot him a murderous glare and he hadn’t said much more than telling her that she wouldn’t have looked ugly even ‘heavy with his child’.

The entire expression had made him uneasy, not solely for the way she had expressed the pregnancy as a negative aspect.

Pregnancy could be difficult on women, since it changed their bodies.

But he was sure she’d look amazingly all full with his child, swollen up and gorgeous, glowing of the pregnancy brightness that would have made her solely pretty.

It had undoubtedly made you gorgeous, from the photos he had seen of your pregnancy.

And he was anxious of staying by her side for such a journey, as he hadn’t been able to do the same with you.

And also the way she pushed on the ‘his child’ part, almost as if she wanted to convince somebody and it had made him nervous, although he tried not to measure every word she had spoken, because it’d drive him mad.

Lately he had been feeling more and more like he had been picking out at every word from Freydis’ mouth.

And not for her own sake, but for his, something that was absolutely awful for an engaged couple and when Freydis’ scare had caught up to him that afternoon he had thought that although it might seem selfish, he needed some time away from her.

Simply to recharge himself and change the mentality he had been having, since he was bringing himself to insanity, judging Freydis in a way that on the long run would have been hurtful.

Even more when she had sacrificed so much to be with him, constantly showing him that she loved him, desperately.

And he thought he felt the same.

But he couldn’t deny that since you and Eric had come back, he had felt the flame of your relationship rekindle, and although at first he had thought it was simply the effect of seeing you again after all this year…

… now he seemed stuck in a limbo.

He had never truly closed the things with you.

Although he had pretended that day of not wanting you anymore, he hadn’t felt in the slightest what his words meant.

It was supposed to be just a stupid dare.

His brothers had been jealous of the close relationships that was forming between you and him, truly impressed by the fact that you two had had sex, and they had dared him, starting from Bjorn, to break up with you for a day.

‘… to see if she suffers, to see if you are… her true love…’ had joked his stepbrother, a lazy smirk on his face, and although Ivar shouldn’t have, at the time he considered his older brother cooler and although he wouldn’t have admitted it to his face, not then and not now…

… he did most of the time what he told him to.

Hvitserk had agreed on the plan, meanwhile both Ubbe and Sigurd had been skeptic, Ubbe eventually joining in, sure that it would have been ‘a fun joke’ and that you would have debunked it immediately, meanwhile Sigurd had just kept to himself, telling Ivar that he was ‘a fucking asshole’ for doing this to you.

And that he’d have suffered greatly for this idiocy.

And he had been right, for once.

After the ‘fake break up’ you had distanced yourself from him, pushing him away in a way that had made him almost self-conscious toward other relationships and when college had rolled around, with a broken heart he had moved away, hoping that the distance would have healed it.

But neither that nor time had brought some relief to him.

He had had his fair share of girls in college: he might have been a prick and a cripple, but money and status clearly brought all the girls to him, but it had never felt like with you.

And he had never felt truly attracted to them.

Something that on the long run had just made him lose his own virility and sex, unable to even simply get it up, no matter the fact that he thought that the girl in bed with him was hot as hell.

She might have been the prettiest woman in the world, but she wasn’t you.

Something that he had never told the sexual therapist he had been seeing for Freydis’ joy, because the doctor would have for sure told him to get back with you, if he wanted an healthy sexual life.

Which wouldn’t happen for sure.

Mostly because you had made it very clear that you would have preferred being thrown in a dumpster than sleep with him.

But he couldn’t deny the thought of not feeling truly comfortable with anybody else, other than him, having you the way he did long ago.

He was jealous of all the imaginary lovers you could have had.

But he justified as simple worry for Eric’s wellbeing.

But he was aware that you wouldn’t have done anything bad for him.

That was why the flame of the past burned bright in his chest.

He had seen you go from a beautiful girl to a gorgeous mother, a journey that echoed on your skin and although you weren’t comfortable in it, like Freydis, you didn’t hide it, showing Eric as your pride and glory.

And he felt the same towards the boy.

He was the sole thing good that he had done.

… alongside Freydis’ baby.

He laid a soft kiss on the slight bump at that thought, meanwhile Freydis gently turned to latch out on him half-awake and half-asleep, as she mumbled a small and chewy ‘… goodmorning’, and Ivar gently moved his nose up her figure, reaching her face, which he peppered in kisses.

It was more a mechanic gesture than a proper one.

But still Freydis didn’t seem to notice the difference, for which he was grateful.

He hoped that a few hours of freedom would make him realize what he had been missing and why Freydis was the one he was supposed to be with.

And not you.

“… I am going, if you think that you are feeling well enough” he mumbled, as he looked at the clock, a quarter past 8, her friend was supposed to be there in a few minutes and he wanted to check on who she was, but Freydis simply nodded her head almost eager to see him gone “… are you sure?”.

He seemed to be not the only that would have enjoyed his freedom.

“Yeah yeah, you overbearing bear” she muttered, almost annoyedly, hiding her face in the pillow, as her long hair spilled on her naked back “… just go, I wouldn’t want mama bear to be worried”.

He grimaced at the veiled insult that Freydis had muttered, but didn’t say anymore, instead gently caressed her hair away, checking her face and her temperature, both seeming healthy, although he was still a bit worried.

If not for Freydis fully, at least for the child she was carrying.

The doctor had assured them that it wasn’t anything wrong.

It was common to bleed through the pregnancy, mostly during stressful periods, which did match with Freydis’ current situation and her crazy wedding planning.

The doctor, himself, had suggested that she took it easy and maybe hired someone to help, and this plan had been explicitly encouraged by Ivar, but she had insisted on doing everything on her own, although she had reassured Ivar that she’d take it with much more calm.

“… isn’t your friend supposed to be here already?” he muttered softly, not wanting to leave her alone, but knowing that in a few minutes you’d be there, since your anxious personality always made you arrive a bit earlier.

Freydis shook lightly her head, and turned to him, again sleepy with her lids hazily closed as a hand came to her chest.

“… my mom is coming, just give her time!” she replied, stretching on the empty bed, but Ivar couldn’t help but hear intensified her words, surprised that Freydis had called her mother, truly, when she had said a ‘friend’.

“… your mom?” he asked, unsure if he had heard right “… I thought… you said a friend”.

Freydis bit her lip and Ivar immediately noticed the gesture, unable to feel like it was a gesture that his fiancée did whenever she was nervous.

And it was starting to happen more and more.

And he was starting to have his doubts.

“No no” she mumbled, slightly pushing herself to have her back against the plush headboard of their shared bed “… I must have been so tired that I mixed up the names… sorry… it is my mom”.

“I thought you didn’t like your family” he could feel the way she was starting to feel more and more nervous with his comment that hid questions, but at the same time she hadn’t been very talkative in the family department and he had just assumed she didn’t like them.

Again, that lip-biting and a little look at her phone, with shone with a number appearing on it, and under it the name ‘mom’.

… Gosh, he was low key losing it.

“I just… I just thought that I might want to be closer to them, at least for the baby” she explained softly, her voice thoughtful as she took a deep breath “… my mom wasn’t that bad, also, I just… grew distant after I went to college”.

Which made sense.

And maybe Ivar was becoming quite more suspicious for something that was completely harmless.

… he was just overthinking the entire situation.

Trying to find faults, when it wasn’t Freydis’ in the slightest.

“… still I’d like to know your mother” he knew better than to come between a child and a mother, but he would have preferred to know her before allowing her near his child, although Freydis trusted her “… invite her over for tonight, we’ll have a small dinner with together, to celebrate and to thank her for staying with you”.

He didn’t want to prod more and Freydis’ face rewarded him with a small smile as she brought him for a long, long goodbye kiss, that not even the notification of a message in his phone, probably from you, stopped her from ending.

He kissed her one last time, and then left her grabbing quickly his travel bag since he had a few things to bring to his mother, a few toys he had brought as a gift to Eric and even a small gift card for you, although he knew that there was no true occasion.

But he felt like it was a nice gesture.

He checked the message as he closed the door behind himself, realizing that it was indeed you, assuring that you were early and would be waiting for him outside, Eric having also stolen the phone from you to send him a photo of himself.

And Ivar snapped one of himself, as he grabbed onto the crutch he had for emergencies, although he didn’t use it too much, but his mother would have gotten an heart-attack if she hadn’t seen him with a crutch, at least.

No matter the fact that she stored a lot more in their house.

And at the start of the week she had even gone as far as to ask whether she had to get some for Eric, for you know… emergencies and such.

‘… Ivar, I am serious!’ she had protested once, when Ivar had started laughing at her worried tone on the phone ‘… I want that sweet boy to be at the most ease, in my house’.

‘Mom, (Y/N) will probably bring crutches if he needs it and you buying some would only make her even more nervous. And let me tell you: she is already terrified by you’ he had explained, because although his mother was important for him, he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with her.

And neither he wanted Freydis to be.

Although, unlike with you, there wasn’t much that could be done with Freydis, since both the women had closed off the option of a possible relationship between each other, which made it difficult to even feel something for the other.

You, instead, had always wanted to be loved.

You cared too much for people’s opinion, no matter the fact that sometimes you just couldn’t be liked by everyone.

And he couldn’t help but to think that was probably how your friendship had started back then.

He made you wait just a few more minutes, moving in your car, although he noted to himself that had he ever had trouble choosing a Christmas gift for you, he should have definitely gone with a new vehicle, since the poor thing you drove looked ready to kill itself from any moment.

He sat behind with Eric, to have more space for his legs and be more comfortable, as you pushed forward the car seat to allow him more space, meanwhile Eric saluted him from the car booster seat, smiling as Ivar moved to kiss his forehead, as you checked from the front mirror.

“… do you have everything you need?” you asked, softly, meanwhile you tried to start up the car and for a moment Ivar thought of suggesting you took his car, although he knew that it might have been difficult to use since it was set up for his needs.

“Yeah, don’t worry” he replied, as he adjusted himself, pushing the safety belt to click in its place “… is everything alright with you, two?”.

“Oh yeah, Eric is literally the most excited about today” and although you maintained a cheerful tone, it was obvious that you were nervous, although your eyes were hidden by sunglasses “… he woke me up at 6 a.m.”.

And now he understood the need for the sunglasses.

Eric clapped his hands, unable to stop himself from giggling loudly, and Ivar couldn’t help but find it adorable gently mimicking him much to your grimace.

But a light smirk appeared on your face as you pushed yourself away from the parking lot, setting up the map on your phone.

“Can we put music on, mom?” asked Eric, who looked like he could have fought anybody off, in that same moment “… please, please, pleeeeaseee”.

“Ok ok” you mumbled, before shooting a look at Ivar “… if your dad doesn’t mind”.

It felt strange, the way you said it.

For once you hadn’t called him Ivar and neither ‘he’, but ‘your dad’ almost as if you had recognized his role in Eric’s life.

Which wasn’t an easy and quick feat.

And he appreciated it.

“I don’t think I have much choice” he muttered softly, as he shot you a quick look, seeing your reaction on the mirror of the car, again that soft smile, barely there, but it was there.

“… truly, when you are a parent, you have none”.

* * *

The trip had been quiet.

Although Eric had moved himself around at the beat of the music for a few minutes, he had eventually drifted off to sleep and neither you nor Ivar had had the heart to wake him up, instead drifting off in a mindless chatter between you two, meanwhile you driver to your destination.

You had also confessed him that you, yourself, had had some problematic bleeding during your time with Eric, telling him that it was natural and that rest in most cases was the best way to go.

And Ivar explained to you that she’d have her mother over, some kind of dubiousness in his words, but again you didn’t dare sticking your nose in his thoughts and problems, instead telling him that during pregnancy you had indeed grown closer to your mother.

A lump in your throat appeared as you thought about your father instead.

It seemed that the women of your family were cursed with men that wouldn’t simply stick.

But meanwhile Ivar was doing his best to be there for his son, your father had left once it had gotten hard, pushing you and Eric away, something that made you a bit sad, and you were almost glad for Ivar’s comfortable presence.

You might have felt uncomfortable for the crush you had been harboring for him, but some things had never changed and the complicity you had always shared had remained and you were thankful for it, now that both your souls had grown quieter and reconciled.

Ivar guided you to his past house, although you had memorized the road when you were ten and could have still reached it blindly.

But you let Ivar think that you had forgotten some things.

Once you were set up in the free parking lot, having arrived first, Ivar woke up softly Eric a gesture that made your heart clench a bit, because although Ivar wasn’t known for being the most emotional man you knew, he was just so gentle with his son.

And the sole thought of it, somehow, hurt you.

You got out of the car, asking Ivar if he could buckle up Eric back in his braces, as you got the few things out of the car to be able to lose as little of time as you could.

Ivar did it quickly, meanwhile Eric still clang on him, half asleep, making you smirk softly, steadying himself against your pants, as Ivar grabbed his travel bag and you your own trolley, spending a few extra minutes to lock the car.

Because you were extremely nervous.

Although you had no reason to be.

Aslaug didn’t need to examine you, as a girlfriend or as a mother.

But you still… felt uneasy at the thought of disappointing her.

And Ivar noticed it.

He gently pushed his hand onto your back, not too close to be truly intimate neither too strong to be possessive, but it was calming and you shot him back a slight thankful smile, as Eric, again shy, hid behind you both, leaning on your trolley.

And then Ivar rang the door.

And before you could say anything to comfort Eric and yourself, the door was opened.

It revealed a graceful woman, in an elegant set of comfortable clothes, a pair of pastel sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt, something that you hadn’t thought you had ever seen the prim and proper woman wear.

But that wasn’t the sole surprise.

She obviously immediately focused her eyes on Ivar and you were glad of it, although it was almost awkward to stand there, but you endured it gladly, happy not to have the attention on you.

Which didn’t last.

Because once she got up from hugging Ivar, she moved her attention towards you and you were also enveloped in a tight hug, the entire gesture contrasting so much with her ice queen persona that you remembered that it sent you in sensory overload.

And you were glad that it finished pretty quickly, making you smile at the woman as she softly saluted you.

‘… oh gods, it has been so so long since I last saw you” she commented softly, shooting you a quick look “… and you look like not a single day has passed”.

“You also do look the same” you replied tightly, surprised by her warm personality, but soon Aslaug’s attention shifted away from you and onto Eric, hiding himself behind you both, as the older woman crunched down to be at eye-level with Eric.

“… and who is this handsome young man?” she asked with a soft smile, as Eric gained a bit of confidence with all those compliments, moving forward and holding out an hand for Aslaug, as you had told him to do.

The older woman, already on the verge of a crying attack, accepted it welcomingly, commenting how much he looked like his father as a baby.

‘… but you do seem much nicer’ she joked, as she gently lead him inside, checking with you if you were comfortable, to which you nodded, because although you had been unsure about all of this, you couldn’t help but be sweetened up by Aslaug’s soft gestures.

Ivar shot you an amused look as he moved inside, pushing the travel bag to sling over his shoulders, so that it wouldn’t annoy him with his braces, as you moved inside.

As soon as you were inside a storm of memories caught you, unable to truly ever forget the many things that had happened there, the many adventures that you had gone through thanks to the Lothbrocks.

And although there were many things you regretted…

… this wasn’t one of those.

“… it didn’t change in the slightest” you breathed out, as you took in the vintage furniture, matched with pastel fabrics that made it seem like a mixture between an haunted house and a magical castle.

“Mom wouldn’t agree” commented Ivar as you both reached the cloakroom to deposit your coats and to leave there your luggage “… she says that everything has changed since we have gone away”.

“Don’t make me think about it!” you muttered, shooting an ironic look at the roof, meanwhile Ivar giggled with overexaggerated annoyance.

“He is only five!” he reminded you, and you shot back a glare that told him ‘he just wouldn’t understand’ “… you, moms, are all the same: overthinking everything and everyone”.

“Don’t even try to talk ‘momma’s boy’ “you taunted him, and again you were right in between that friendship and that crush stadiums of your relationships that made moments like this irresistible and the most difficult for you.

“… my lips are sealed” muttered gingerly Ivar, although he moved to distance himself from you, clearly showing his uneasiness to this, something for which you were grateful.

And you both moved to the kitchen where Aslaug had brought Eric, making sure that he did a second breakfast in full fashion, completely spoiling his child and looking at him with a curiosity that made it seem like she was examining a strange animal.

You had had a small talk with Eric to explain him who Aslaug was and how to behave with her, promoting a more rigid behavior, that might have been not what was proper actually for the welcoming they had received.

“… I hope you didn’t mind that I gave him something” and with ‘something’ she probably meant half of the food in her kitchen “… I am used to my boys being quite hungry”.

You tried not to grimace at the ‘my boys’, but still chastised Eric a bit, not wanting to deny him the food he needed, but if he ate all those things not only he would have been on a sugar high by this afternoon, but he also might have not eaten anything at Thanksgiving lunch.

And yet you noticed the unsure look on Aslaug’s face, reminding you one of your own when you had been the young girl, waiting for her examination.

And although you knew it wasn’t proper, you almost snickered with yourself for it.

“… don’t worry” you simply commented, dabbing almost possessively Eric’s lips, trying to gain some control back, as you showed Aslaug that although you appreciated her concern and gentleness, you were Eric’s mother.

And she seemed to understand it as she distanced herself lightly, focusing her attention on her son.

And noticing solely now that Freydis was indeed missing.

‘Where is she?’ she asked, with a light scrunching of her eyebrows, which you recognized as ‘the look of disappointment’ otherwise known as the ‘I am judging you’ face.

And for a moment you didn’t want to be in Freydis’ place.

“She has had some problem with the pregnancy” immediately Aslaug’s eyes tightened on him, evidently worried “… she has been bleeding a bit, and although the doctor has told us that it isn’t anything worrying, he said to avoid stress”.

And facing a mother-in-law like Aslaug could be quite stressful.

So, you didn’t blame her.

“… and why aren’t you with her?” her voice was slightly lowered, not to be heard by a rather disinterested Eric, his gaze focused on trying to steal a few more handmade cookies, which you tried out for yourself, and you had to say that Aslaug certainly hadn’t lost her touch.

And you hoped they weren’t poisoned.

“Mom…” Ivar’s voice was indeed a bit annoyed “… she insisted about remaining home and I didn’t leave her alone, she is with her mom”.

This comforted you and Aslaug, honestly, as the woman moved her gaze onto Eric, who had finally shifted his focus on his grandma, suddenly having woken up fully from the food and tiredness nap he had been having.

“… so… you are my other grandma?”.

You were tempted to almost facepalm yourself, because if Eric had inherited one bad trait from Ivar it was his uneasy bluntness and you couldn’t help but blush a bit, almost worried of Aslaug’s reaction.

She had recognized your role as a mother, and she had even hugged you.

And then your child went like and literally called her ‘his other grandma’.

She was probably already questioning your parenting skills and…

… and she started laughing, loudly.

And you and Ivar soon joined, Ivar more truly than you, who croaked almost as a newborn bird, meanwhile Eric looked at you all, as if the inside joke you had said wasn’t funny and he wasn’t getting it, till Aslaug softly moved an hand towards his smaller one and muttered softly.

“Yes, sweetheart” she muttered softly, as she reached out to straighten up his hair, as he brought them away “… I am grandma, Aslaug”.

“Oh, that is a cool name!” Eric chanted, looking with bright eyes at your grandma “… like the name of the princess Ragnar marries!”

Not even the mention of Ragnar was enough to make a soft smile disappear from Aslaug’s face, as she did nod and confirm that ‘it was the same name indeed’, before she shot you a quick laugh, embarrassment written on her face.

And insecurities.

You encouraged her with a soft smile, and she asked you whether she could play a bit with Eric, outside.

‘It shouldn’t be too cold’ she explained ‘… and don’t worry… I have set up a small table and a few things for him…’.

You couldn’t help but be extremely warmed up by the way Aslaug seemed to already care for Eric, although your uneasiness was still there, constantly worried that these people might leave Eric’s life, leaving him heartbroken.

But you also knew that although Aslaug was an ice queen, she was truthful in every little gesture of her.

And when she swore, she meant it.

Ivar had definitely taken that after her.

‘Mom can I go?’ insisted Eric, shooting you a deep look, as you moved to lay a soft kiss on his forehead, before you allowed them both to go outside, sending him a light smirk as Aslaug smiled at you gratefully.

‘… just wear a jacket and an hat!’.

Ivar who had watched carefully the scene, laughed again at your worry, but you caught the way he attentively looked outside to make sure that everything was indeed Eric-proofed, although he shouldn’t have doubted his mother.

Since she had been through that with her own son.

You wondered whether she was so immediately attracted by Eric because of the similarity with Ivar.

But you didn’t have too much time to mind to these things, because suddenly there was a ring to the door and your small safe haven was becoming a crowded family function.

Shit, you were nervous again.

Ivar’s brothers now did know that you and Ivar had a child together.

He had told them after you had agreed to be there on Thanksgiving day, and he had taken it upon himself to contact them to give them the news, since you had both agreed that it would have been awkward to discover it in that moment.

Although you honestly hoped you could keep that secret for a bit more.

You weren’t ashamed of Eric or of having Ivar back in your life, although it was simply as a co-parent to your five-year-old, but you knew perfectly that Ivar’s brothers had always had a certain image of you.

An image that even after all this bullshit you felt like you had to upheld.

And you couldn’t, anymore.

And you hadn’t ever told this to Ivar, when you were together, but you hadn’t ever felt truly comfortable with his brothers.

Hvitserk was okay, although he was a bit too flirty for you, but he had taken the hint once you had threatened him of cutting his ‘beloved friends’ off and Sigurd was nice, although he could be twice as childish as Ivar, sending you the demo of many of his songs, expecting you to listen to them in a few minutes.

But they were ok.

You did dislike Ubbe, since you couldn’t help but feel at unease with him, although he was the calmer of the brothers, but you couldn’t help but think about the infamous ‘look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it’ phrase.

Although you didn’t personally know much, since you had moved away, you had heard many rumors about him, and his numerous affairs, ending up his marriage with Margrethe, ruining the poor girl, and ending up marrying his brother’s wife.

If this wasn’t a scandal straight from a telenovela, you didn’t know what to call it.

But who you truly disliked was Bjorn.

He was the older son and thankfully he was their stepbrother, so he wasn’t around much time.

He had quite some toxic behaviors, starting from being a serial cheater and not a believer in monogamy, going on with the fact that he left whenever it got too hard, and although he wouldn’t be there for that lunch (which was a relief) you still didn’t like his presence.

And you secretly, not so much, hoped not to meet him.

He had been the most against your relationship with Ivar.

He had been constantly telling Ivar that he was losing out on being in a relationship at his age, but Ivar hadn’t cared much for his words, although you knew that he looked up at Bjorn almost like an hawk as if in that way he could steal his place as Ragnar’s heir.

But back in the time you hadn’t said much.

Ivar’s relationship with his brothers was already broken up by jealousy and the typical emotional angst, so you hadn’t wanted to add much more.

But now… having to face both Hvitserk and Ubbe, who brought Torvi with himself, they made you bit your tongue both for anxiety…

… and both to keep inside your words.

You felt a stranger left in the kitchen as Ivar opened the door, welcomed them inside with snarky remarks and sarcastic comebacks, but you could almost smell their interest and curiosity for you.

Ivar had told you they had taken the news well, but Sigurd had told you that both Ubbe and Bjorn had freaked out terribly in the chat, muttering things about your child and about the fact that Ivar was ‘stupid’ for taking it in so easily, without testing yourds.

Hvitserk had been the only one welcoming it, already muttering all the things he’d teach your child as his ‘favorite uncle’.

If Ubbe and Bjorn kept on acting like that, he and Sigurd would have soon been Eric’s sole uncles.

You wouldn’t have let your child grow up in such a disrespect.

You understood their uneasiness at your revelation, but you had expected some more confidence, because although you hadn’t been friends, truly, you had grown up together.

And Ubbe, himself, shouldn’t have muttered much after he had adopted the sons of another man, after he had ‘stolen’ away his bride.

Was there something truly different in what he had done and in what Ivar was doing with Eric?

But you reigned in your sourness, welcoming them inside the kitchen with a smile.

And for the first time in his life, Hvitserk moved to you immediately, ignoring completely the sweet treats on the table, laid out solely for his enjoyment, since Eric and Aslaug, the only one who would have dared to stop him, were outside, overlooked from the windows of the kitchen by Ivar.

He hugged you so tightly that he swung you off the chair you were comfortably sat on, making you giggle at his affectionate antics, before he hounded you to know where ‘his little nephew was’.

“… Gosh, I still can’t believe that Ivar was the one to forget about the condom rule, among all of us” now you were definitely embarrassed and Ivar shot an annoyed look at him, telling him to back off “… but I am glad that you are back here!”.

“Apparently I couldn’t run away that far” you commented, meaning for it to be ironical, but there was some truth behind it, and Ivar noticed it, his eyes growing a bit darker, as Hvitserk’s attention finally caught the cookies on the table.

And you were left dealing with Torvi and Ubbe.

The woman presented herself to you, since you didn’t know her if not from what you had heard from Ivar and Sigurd.

She was quite nice with you, at least being polite and gentle, and Ubbe was simply nice, something in his straight and tight pose making it difficult for you to feel relaxed and not awkward.

But still… you survived it.

And were glad to simply settle back in the background noise, meanwhile the brotherly chatter began, and you moved to Ivar’s side by the windows, noticing that Aslaug was trying to teach Eric some gardening.

‘She will get along quickly with my mom’ you muttered ‘… she works with a florist these days’.

“She has taken to gardening after we all went away…” there was something almost nostalgic in his voice “… as with yoga, pilates and a few hundred other hobbies… she always wonder why we are so restless and she blames it onto Ragnar, but the truth is…”

Now a proud smile lighted up Ivar’s gorgeous face, showing you the growth that he had gone through in those years where you hadn’t seen each other.

“… the truth is that she has a wild streak in herself”.

You were surprised by the door opening one more time, signaling that another guest had been welcomed, a guest you hadn’t expected as everyone else in the room.

The awkward silence intensifying in the room, as Ragnar walked in.

A grimace on his face as if he hadn’t expected everyone to look at him like an annoying mosquito, something that was quite evident in both his eldest and his youngest, meanwhile Hvitserk was still focused on the cookies.

Which you did also.

You were definitely much more uncomfortable now, but at the same time you felt a bit unrelated to all this family drama, glad when Aslaug walked in, to make Eric wash his hands, evidently having noticed that quite some time had already passed.

She noticed Ragnar and concealed quite well the surprise in her eyes, simply muttering a few orders at her children, meanwhile Eric ran to you, and you tried to isolate yourself asking him what he had been doing and what Aslaug had taught him.

Ivar also came closer, crouching down at his side, and that was what caught Ragnar’s eyes as he noticed the small family that had formed before his eyes, after he had exchanged a few unpleasant and rigid comments with his sons.

“… I thought you were with blondie” the comment was insensitive on so many aspects.

But when had Ragnar ever been attentive with Ivar?

Aslaug had smothered him, and Ragnar had tried, the few time he was in his life, to reverse the whole project with a steely discipline and a barely concealed disdain for Ivar’s disability.

“… none of your business, dad” Ivar muttered, pointing out each word, as you gently tried to lead Eric away from the confrontation that was soon to erupt, Aslaug noticing it and taking you with her, to find a vase for the flowers she and Eric had picked.

And you exchanged a soft smile with her, thankful for the distraction.

And as Eric roamed for the storage room, under your watchful eyes, choosing a proper vase, you muttered a gentle ‘thank you’.

‘… I…’ the words burned on Aslaug’s tongue, and you definitely felt like that was another thing Ivar had for sure inherited by her “… think I am the one who should say ‘thank you’ this time, this time, actually… and sorry”.

You were surprised but didn’t try to stop that discourse.

“… I didn’t mean to be horrid to you” she explained “… I never… thought you were, I actually was just worried about Ivar’s heart… although it wasn’t… my business”.

“I…” you knew that you should have said something like ‘don’t worry’ or ‘it isn’t a problem’, but you just felt like hiding behind pretty words wouldn’t have helped you, even more in this situation with Aslaug “… apologies accepted”.

She smiled brightly at you.

“… I know… that this isn’t a proper situation and Ivar and you have much more to discuss, but…” her mutter was almost the one of a scared child “… I’d like to be present in Eric’s life, if you ever need an help… I do know of your mother…”.

“I hope not to sound rude, but…” your tone was light and at the same time heavy “… it is just… I need a bit of time. I handled this alone, with only my mom on my side for so long, and now it is just strange to have all these people around you…”.

Aslaug nodded, although she wasn’t able to shed the sadness from her face.

But then you reached out for her hand.

“… but with time, I do hope to let you in” you softened your tone “… Eric needs his family with him”.

And she smiled the absolute brightest, right as Eric came back with the biggest vase.

“Can we use this?!”.

* * *

Ivar had always loved Ragnar, as a child.

He had seen him as his own hero, the sole he could relate to and the sole he could trust, but moving on with years and Ragnar’s numerous disappearances, the love and admiration had become distrust and hate.

For a father that had never wanted him.

But Ragnar still had his own influence on him.

Starting from the fact that for a long time children had been a very touchy subject for him and one more reason why he had chosen the fertilization in vitro.

To avoid his children developing any pathologies, like him.

Ragnar had wanted Aslaug to abort him.

It was a truth that Ivar had learned when he was fourteen, hormones full blown and annoyed at everything, once overhearing one of the many fights going on between Ragnar and Aslaug.

Since he was ten year old, Ragnar used his mother’s house as an hotel, constantly checking in and out, maybe playing with his sons for a little time, but many other times he’d tell them his magical journeys and stories.

And most of the time, it’d end up with Ragnar screaming at Aslaug.

And her screaming back at him.

Once, when they had gotten quite heated, mostly because Aslaug had told him that she was tired of taking care of his child with no help form him whatsoever, Ragnar had shot back that maybe she should have aborted Ivar when she had the time.

And Ivar, ‘Ivar The Boneless’, as his brothers always nicknamed him, had cried for an entire afternoon, after hearing that.

But this hadn’t shattered Ivar’s heart, not yet.

He had followed his father as a puppy, and he remembered the way many fights had erupted between you two for that, because of Ivar’s faithful behavior to somebody who didn’t deserve it.

Going to college and distancing himself from both his parents, he had learned that what you had complained about had been true, and his relationship with his father had been much more distanced, although he worked in the family business.

But he was trying to form his own legacy.

Hence Ragnar’s presence just brought him back in the past.

And he hated the feeling of being inferior that he felt.

He had been feeling so well, with the knowledge of yours and Aslaug’s relationship, mending as he noticed the desperate happiness in his mother’s eyes at finally meeting her first grandchild.

… he was indeed having a good time, without overthinking the whole ‘Freydis-You-Eric’ situation but now another thing was added to that dangerous math.

“Isn’t she…” Ragnar scratched the back of his head, as if it helped with remembering “… your old best friend? And how old is the child? Did you seriously hide a child for so long?”.

His tone was joking, but strangely arrogant and Ivar wondered if Heahmund felt that way when Ivar spoke to him.

… maybe he should have apologized.

Because he was extremely annoyed by Ragnar’s behavior.

“Which part of ‘none of your business’ don’t you understand?” he shot back, and Ragnar seemed seriously hit, his movements a bit slowed down probably from the few shots of tequila he had taken before coming here.

“I am just… I am…” the words weren’t slurred, but he was fully drunk, although his chain of reason seemed quite clouded by whatever he had taken “… you are my children you are my business”.

He shot a small look at all ‘his children’ in the room, trying to regain some sympathy but it wasn’t much useful, since they all were on Ivar’s side for once.

Both Hvitserk and Ubbe were neutral to his father, but this didn’t mean that they would have ever taken his side, even more as grown-ups.

“… we stopped being your business, after we were five and I got chicken pox and you were on the other part of the world, screwing somebody, meanwhile mom took care of four children all by herself” commented Hvitserk, something that definitely put Ragnar in great unease, not knowing how to react at that.

Not that he had to, since his son returned to eating, but it was clear that there was a quite some distance between him and his sons.

And Ivar didn’t like his presence even more, because he didn’t want Ragnar around Eric and neither did you, since you hadn’t known about it, having been assured that he wouldn’t be there.

But his father always found ways back to them.

His mother had never been able to fully delete him from their life and neither she had tried to delete him fully, at least for the sake of their children, and he couldn’t make it a fault to her, but he hoped his father would just take a hint.

“… I just… I just wanted a nice Thanksgiving” commented Ragnar, raising his hands as if to surrender anything he might have wanted “… with my family”.

And nobody could deny it.

Although they could make it true hell for him.

In the end the brothers decided to keep to themselves as Ragnar stood in the middle of the room rather awkwardly, meanwhile you and Aslaug returned in that moment with a vase that was bigger than Eric, the small boy trumping happily between the two women, as Aslaug and you shared a few interesting botanical facts.

He wished he could see the same happening with Freydis.

But he tried to make his thoughts quiet, not truly knowing how to deal with Eric and Ragnar, so for now he just tried to act the best way possible, meanwhile he helped ‘his little man’ with the vase.

“… no no, Dad! I am strong like Thor!” protested loudly Eric, but you did send Ivar a look as if to say ‘do check on him’, meanwhile Aslaug adjusted the flowers, the other brothers quickly finding excuses to disperse from the kitchen: Hvitserk going to the bathroom and Ubbe and Torvi going to his old room, so that they could do a few calls.

He had hoped Ragnar would get a hint too, but he didn’t.

And he came close to Eric, as the child sat down to help his grandma and you, your eyes immediately trained on Ragnar, who sent you a small smile, probably not recognizing you fully, although he had indeed recognized you as Ivar’s ‘best friend’.

You didn’t look definitely happy to see Ragnar, but you didn’t let it be seen on your face, although you were attentive with the way Ragnar moved closer to your son.

Because he wasn’t certainly an idiot, and he must have done the math to realize that the child was Ivar’s, no matter the amount of alcohol and drugs that he had put in his system to numb it.

“… hi” he muttered, as he came to Eric’s side, the boy’s eyes suddenly moving onto him, as he shot you a surprised look, again shyness in his eyes and Aslaug chastised Ragnar with a warning smile.

“Hi” replied Eric, as he turned to him, after you had lightly nodded, but still putting an hand on the back of your child, as Ivar came to your side, something that made you send him a soft thankful smile.

He couldn’t help but feel something deep inside him fall in love again with that smile.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, as Eric shook his head, and Ragnar sent a look at Ivar, who sent one to you.

He hadn’t meant to make you live this situation, knowing perfectly well how much this would have made you nervous, because for sure you hadn’t expected to be surrounded by so many people and not only because he did remember that you were an introvert…

… but it must have been a big change to go from nobody knowing anything to everybody knowing about ‘your dirty little secret’.

But you decided to do your best to make something good out of an awful situation.

And you invited Ragnar to explain it to him, with a small look, that spoke the words ‘don’t fuck it up’.

“… I am your grandpa” commented the man, as Eric’s eyes became bright like stars, as he clapped his hands, strongly.

“Grandpa!” he called him excitedly “… do you want to come with me to my soccer games?”.

The question was so innocent and adorable that even Ragnar cracked up a tender smile as he nodded your hand, although he could totally feel you grimace at that, but you gave Eric your best smile, as Aslaug suggested that she got the vase set up, and you helped Eric washed his hands properly.

Effectively leaving Ivar and Ragnar alone.

You shot him a small look to check with him, before joining after Eric, and he wasn’t able to stop himself from thinking about the past and about how your constant support had meant so much for you.

And he had been stupid enough to take it for granted.

“Where did that one plop off?” commented loudly Ragnar, once you all were out of earshot, making Ivar grimace and for a minute he thought that he could have just ignored him and hoped he’d just ‘magically’ disappear.

Since he was so good at that.

But if Ivar had inherited something from him was that shit-eating attitude that would have stopped him from backing off and relenting, even when it was clear he had lost.

“… I discovered about him a few months ago” explained Ivar, trusting the fact that Ragnar wasn’t truly listening.

That he wasn’t truly interested in what he had to say.

Ragnar was only interested in what he, himself, had to say.

“… (Y/N), his mother, didn’t let me know about his existence till I found out, because she was sure I didn’t want him in my life…” which was strangely what had been happening with him in his family, so he couldn’t blame you truly for having had that thought “… turns out she was wrong”.

“So, you took him in” he spoke of Eric almost as if it was a charity case and Ivar had to hold back the rage in him “… that’s a good action, son”.

“I am trying to avoid becoming like you” he commented, a sneak attack at Ragnar who showed the sufferance of it but stabilized quickly “… abandoning the children that I fathered as if they were simple trash”.

“… but is this true?” he shot back, letting out an amused breath “… because I do think that you are following in my footsteps perfectly”.

“No, I am not” he ground out his teeth as he growled out the words.

“Then where is the pretty blonde I saw the last time?” Ragnar asked loudly “… and I don’t think that you are married with the mother of your child… so, I do think that you are handling them both… unsure of what to do”.

And this was damnably true.

“You know nothing” it was stupid, but he hoped it’d shut up the entire situation, because it was making him feel just worse.

Would he seriously end up like his father?

Old and with a myriad of problems?

He hoped not to.

He had wanted to become bigger than him, in his job, but he had also wanted to become better than him, family-wise, that was the reason behind his choice of Freydis.

Why he had let himself be convinced so easily in what sounded like the fairytale life.

But was it truly?

Even more when he felt so perfectly with you and Eric.

“… but I do” it was barely a whisper.

But Ivar didn’t have a good enough reply for that.

* * *

Ragnar’s appearance at the Thanksgiving lunch had undoubtedly put a bit of a damper on your mood, but you tried your best to take care of Eric, letting the baby interact with his grandpa.

Eric missed greatly your father and his grandfather.

Your grandfather had been extremely attached to Eric, and his disappearance had been so sudden that Eric had simply thought, for a whole week after he had run away, that he’d be back soon.

He had just gone on a trip.

And when the knowledge he wouldn’t have come back had settled in, Eric had grown much more silent, and he had kept this behavior till he had met again Ivar, developing again his cheery personality, for which you were thankful.

But at the same time, it made you worried.

And although Ragnar had been gentle with Eric, you didn’t exactly want him around your child, had his tendency to disappear kept on being present in his tumultuous soul.

Eric had had enough instability in his life, and you didn’t want to add much more.

But you had bigger problems at hand.

Hvitserk had been introduced to Eric and he kept on trying to teach him some dirty limericks, much to your, Aslaug’s and Ivar’s annoyance, who all shot him an annoyed glare.

But you were glad that Eric was having fun with his uncle and you were even gladder by the soft-spoken approach Hvitserk had been having about it, completely treating the situation as if it was completely normal.

Unlike Ubbe who kept on shooting attentive glances at the child.

But you ignored it, in favor of having a few chats with Aslaug and Torvi.

In the end, by the time the lunch was ready, you were definitely much more comfortable and although you tried to keep your bigger emotions at bay, you almost felt… involved in the family.

And you were unsure if it was a good thing or not.

You were glad for that environment for Eric, who was definitely at ease and happy.

You hoped you could keep the same thing up after Freydis had her own child, something that put you a bit at unease, not wanting to push yourself in a situation where you didn’t belong, knowing perfectly well how much care a newborn baby required from both parents…

… and although Ivar was handling quite well the situation…

… you hoped the new baby wouldn’t have been leading Ivar away from Eric, when they were both that close.

Although it was a selfish thought.

But for now, you tried to push away those awful thoughts.

And enjoyed the moment.

By lunchtime Eric had already gotten a few new toys by Ivar, something that had made you quirk a brow at the man himself, but he had just smirked slightly as if to say ‘what can I do about it’.

Well, if Eric was going to grow up as a spoiled brat, he’d have had to do something.

But for now, you enjoyed seeing your beloved Eric all happy and playful.

Aslaug was nice also, certainly having grown quite close to the child, although not much time had passed, but you had smiled with pride, as she had complimented you for the amazing education he had received…

‘… unlike somebody else’ she had muttered looking at her children: Ubbe on his phone, Hvitserk with something stuck in his mouth and Ivar trying to figure out a lego castle for his son ‘… I swear I tried my best’.

‘I do believe it’ you shot back, with a small smile.

Also Aslaug tried her best to avoid talking about Ragnar or with him, and he on his part did his best to avoid both her and Ivar, moving onto the sofa, as he watched a game, soon joined by Hvitserk.

Eric instead helped Aslaug out after the lunch, bringing her dishes from the table to the kitchen sink, although he barely reached the table, helped by you and Ivar.

‘The portrait of a family’ commented tightly Ragnar, something that put you and Ivar through a lot of uneasy embarrass, but you handled it at your best for the wellness of your mental health.

As you all settled down for a small and calm after lunch coffee, the food having lessened the differences among each other soon you found yourself dozing off, happily, on the sofa.

Lately you had been doing a lot of night shifts at the art gallery, because they were better paid and you felt more comfortable being able to take care of Eric in the afternoon, so you could help him with homework and bring him to soccer practice and doctor appointments.

You must have simply closed your eyes for moment just to wake up when you felt tiny fists hitting lightly your stomach and opened your eyes to find a rather happy Eric, blowing in your face to push your hair away.

And outside it was utter and fully dark.

Shit.

You looked all around yourself immediately seeing that you weren’t on the sofa anymore, and you had been tucked in what you remembered being Ivar’s old bedroom.

You couldn’t help but be worried sick, immediately checking your watch and discovering it was already 7 p.m.

You had slept for four hours.

Which would have been reasonable, hadn’t you basically fallen asleep at your ex’ house, when you had promised to bring him back to his pretty wife right after lunch.

You couldn’t help but have this feeling of having basically fucked up everything.

And Eric kept on jumping on the bed.

“… sweetie” you called out to him, realizing that if you had been napping all this time he had had the time to replenish himself of sugar and would end up probably breaking his brakes if he kept on jumping in that way “… where is your father?”.

“Dad is downstairs” explained Eric, as you gently grabbed him on his waist to calm him down and bring him an hug, indulging a moment more enjoying the warmth of that soft body and the smell of light sweat and cuddles that Eric always had on his clothes.

Before his words truly registered.

And you realized Ivar hadn’t gone back.

To his very pregnant wife.

Because of you.

As soon as you managed to settle down Eric and make him move after you, you descended downstairs, to catch he Lothbrocks in what looked like a challenge of GTA.

All the brothers were playing, cursing lightly at each other, meanwhile Aslaug glared at them for those curses and Ragnar cheered them on, with a beer in his hand.

It almost seemed a normal family.

And then immediately their attention was onto you, as Eric loudly chased after you, his brakes stumping against the soft moquette of the house, as you noticed he wasn’t wearing shoes, Aslaug catching your gaze and explaining to you:

‘He seemed uncomfortable and I thought he’d feel better without shoes…’ she set you a small look ‘… I hope you didn’t mind it’.

‘No no, if you don’t’ you spoke back, before you sent Ivar a pleading look, and he abandoned the newest round of the game, among brotherly insults, as Hvitserk slapped his ass, and Eric had a quite gleaming look at that gesture, making you send him a glare.

You expected Ivar to be angry.

He was always angry when things didn’t go the way he wanted.

He was a perfectionist in each thing, even more in his own plans.

But Ivar simply looked at you softly, as you hurriedly moved to explain that you could still make it time for you to arrive at 9 p.m. back in the city and to please apologize to Freydis for your accidental…

‘Hey… don’t worry’ because as much as he hadn’t changed from the perfectionist he was, you continued on stumbling on your own words whenever you were nervous, as you did back in the time ‘… I have actually asked mom if you could stay here in the guest room with Eric. I don’t want you to drive with this tiredness’.

‘I slept, I am completely energized’ you replied loudly and then yawned ruining completely the effect of your words, and earning a soft raised eyebrow from Ivar ‘… and I wouldn’t want to bother… Aslaug was already nice enough to have me for lunch…’.

‘… she doesn’t mind, and she prefer to have me safe on the road’ he explained ‘… Freydis also said the same’.

‘Gosh I just feel so awfully for having fallen asleep!’ you commented breathing loudly ‘… I swear that I totally understand if Freydis is angry with me’.

‘I actually…’ he started with a smile that wasn’t truly a smile, but something to hide his uneasiness ‘… actually I think that she is grateful for that. I can be pretty annoying…’.

Which you didn’t certainly deny.

But at the same time, you would have been eager to have him back at home, had you been pregnant as Freydis, although you didn’t regret your pregnancy and certainly didn’t need a man by your side, but…

… having him back home with you would have made you feel better.

Although Ivar could be indeed quite suffocating when he was trying to be ‘overprotective’.

But again, it wasn’t any of your business.

‘… are you sure?’ you simply mumbled, feeling like you could have survived a bit more with Aslaug’s food and a bit of relax, although you had to get to your phone, probably, before your mother came to search you, here, herself.

The brothers all left before dinner and in the end, it was simply you and Eric, Aslaug and Ragnar, the latter basically falling asleep on the sofa, right after the meal.

Aslaug stayed up just in time for supper, before retiring to her chambers, probably a bit tired by the fact that she had had to handle an ex-husband, one child and three grown-ups who were like children, mentally.

You and Eric also left soon, as Ivar took care of switching off the lights and setting the alarm, but you knew that he also needed a bit of private time to talk with Freydis.

And you had to set a five-year-old with too much sugar in bed, washing him up and changing him in comfortable clothes, making sure he got his meds.

As you were changing him, Ivar knocked on your door, to wish you goodnight and offer you a set of pajama, which you immediately recognized as an old pair you had left at his house when you were fifteen and used to sleep over there, enough that you had started leaving pajamas as clues in Ivar’s wardrobe.

But you couldn’t deny still the surprise you felt when you had it in your hands, laughing lightly as you wondered whether you’d be able to fit in them.

“… I can’t believe that you still have it” you mumbled, stretching it out in front of you to take in the awful sloth decoration on it, and the obnoxious white color that had become a dirtied yellow for too many wash-ups.

“Mom must have noticed it and washed it” he commented dryly, and you could detect the lies in his words, but were grateful to sleep into something familiar and not your uncomfortable clothes.

And it smelled like Ivar.

As if you were back at the times when you had just been invited to sleep over at his house, once your parents’ fighting had become too intense for you, and you had just snuggled closer to him, his smell immediately comforting you.

And it still comforted you to this day.

“Thank you” you muttered, as Eric moved forward to receive his ‘goodnight kiss’ and his ‘goodnight story’, something that effectively seemed to ease him up, meanwhile he settled in the big bed next to you and you changed in the bathroom, noticing that you had grown a few inches since the last time you had worn the pajama.

It had grown also tight in some other places, and you were almost ashamed of moving yourself outside of the bathroom, eventually bringing yourself to when Eric called out for you, and you tried to keep your eyes down, as you sat beside him in bed, his eyes still shining with some kind of interested ‘curiosity’.

Almost a gleaming mischievousness.

So, you got ready for whatever he was going to ask for.

“Mom!” he chanted out loudly and you shushed him telling him ‘to be mindful of the people sleeping in other rooms’ “… how did you and dad meet?”.

Gosh, didn’t this bring out horrible memories?

And some sweet ones.

Ivar looked as confused as you for the question, but not half-displeased.

“Sweetie, it is a long story…” you started, but Eric looked like he might have not slept for months if he hadn’t heard it, as he pleaded for more.

‘Just another minute!’ he chanted loudly ‘… just another story’.

And eventually both you and Ivar relented, the man’s eyes sparkling brightly, as he started.

“Actually I knew your mother for a long time, since we were tiny like you…” and he went to boop softly his son’s face, making him giggle “… we were best friends for a long time”.

“And then what changed?” asked curiously Eric.

‘Ivar started to look me as a woman, not as simply his best friend’ you wanted to say, but you knew that this wouldn’t have been very PG-13, so you simply opted for a more ‘fairytale-like’ explanation.

“… your dad and I both grew up and so did our deelings, and our friendship became more love” you explained, as you kissed softly his forehead, Ivar’s eyes slowly settling up to you meanwhile you said those words.

And you tried not to let it affect you.

… too much.

Since it was truly impossible not to feel the pressure of those beautiful eyes.

“But if you loved each other why did you…” his brain seemed to settle up links and you honestly were as confused as him to that situation, because in the end although Ivar had told you that he didn’t love you anymore, he hadn’t ever said the reasons behind it “… why are you not together anymore?”.

And you let also this be handled by Ivar.

His eyes shifting on the floor as you, yourself, felt too uncomfortable at that question.

“… we just…” they were blabbers the ones in Ivar’s voice “… I broke your mom’s heart sadly, a lot time ago, and I wasn’t able to do much to repair it in the meanwhile, but…”.

He brought you closer to him, with a loose arm, which made you both seem the picture of awkwardness, but it was enough convincing for Eric.

“… but we are together, now…”.

“… in a way” you added, before moving closer to Eric with a serious look “… and somebody is way past his bath time!”.

And Eric tried to protest a bit more, but eventually he let go, and you switched off the main light, leaving only the one on the bedside table, as Ivar continued on softly combing his hair, something that eventually got Eric to breath out softly, signaling he was asleep.

And Ivar had to leave.

Although you could see he didn’t want to.

And you couldn’t deny him, truly.

“… would you like to lay down for a bit with us?” you asked softly, as you settled on the opposite side of him “… he seems happier and calmer when you are beside him”.

“I never thought somebody would have said that” he commented with a light twinkle in his eyes “… you won’t mind if I stay?”.

You shook your head, telling yourself that it was just for tonight.

It was just for one night.

And then you’d go back to normality.

Sadly.


	7. The Story Of How It All Fell Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is meant to be an holiday free from any thought turns into something more for both you and Ivar...  
> ... even more when you find yourselves in the same hotel...  
> ... so close to each other that it can't be anything but tempting.

You couldn’t deny the fact that since Ivar ha come back in both your and Ivar’s life, you had been living much more comfortably and with less expenses.

But not with any less worries.

New ones seemed to appear with each day as the fear of what Ivar would do, once his new family with Freydis started growing, had finally made its presence known.

Even more when you came to collect Eric on Christmas’ night.

He had spent the whole day at Ivar’s, meanwhile the Eve had been spent with you at home, doing both days nothing more than wrapping gifts and unwrapping the few that came from you and your mother.

And Ivar had been quite correct with them and matched up your gifts.

Aslaug had even come to her son’s house that same day to enjoy some time with her grandson.

And you couldn’t deny that she had grown much warmer to you, and the thing made you feel damnably more comfortably as you confronted and talked with her.

Who had been thoroughly cold with you had been Freydis’ mother.

You hadn’t had a full-on conversation with her, but she had been standing painfully near to you when you had come to get Eric, meanwhile you chatted a bit with Freydis and Aslaug, making you feel like you weren’t wanted there.

And hence your worries intensified.

After having been left behind by the two men of your life it was an understatement to say that you had abandonment issues.

Which you didn’t want to pass onto Eric, although you were aware it would have been difficult to cut Ivar’s relationship with your son

But you threaded carefully.

One step at the time, even more slowed down by the fact that you and Ivar had started being together…

… also without Eric, starting from the mall trips to choose Eric’s gift, back in December, and moving onto a few shared coffees, just as two ‘friends’.

And yet, you didn’t feel like his friend in the slightest.

When you had woken up in his old room, on the day after Thanksgiving with his family, you had thought it was exactly how it should have been.

But it wasn’t.

That chance had been long lost.

There wasn’t a sole way to turn around the past and go back.

But with your son involved, it was a different story.

And yet you knew how all these stories go.

What would happen truly once Freydis gave birth to her child.

Babies needed a lot of time and care and although you wouldn’t have hold a grunge against Ivar for taking a break from your son to take care of the new baby, you were worried he’d see the mistake he did in trying to latch a relationship with Eric.

Because you both had baggage.

Heavy baggage that would hold him back.

You wouldn’t have been offended if he chose to step back…

… but you were worried of how Eric would perceive such a situation.

Losing his grandpa had been already tough, and you knew that he admired Ivar, trying to copy him in his behaviors and his words, something that made you laugh a bit, but at the same time you knew he’d be crushed by Ivar’s rejection.

And there wasn’t much you could do.

Eric needed a father.

And he deserved one.

You just hoped Ivar would be able to see it too.

As you were having these dark thoughts, you realized that your coffee had grown old and that knowing the turn that you’d have that day you should have spent a few more minutes of your short break to grab another

Warmer.

And maybe not from the coffee machine for the employees at your work.

Which was shit.

You raised from the small bench in the park nearby the gallery, having a less than half an hour to grab the coffee in the nearest bar and then go back to freshen up for the next session of work, although there wasn’t much to do as of lately, since many people had finished their holidays and rich annoyed art students or tourists visited.

And obviously the few people who needed to use the bathroom.

But you had been filled with paperwork and office work, which was truly hellish, even more because, being the youngest of the bunch, everybody dumped something onto you.

As you checked yourself on the window pane of the coffee shop, you definitely thought about the fact that you needed at least a few more liters of coffee.

And a whole new face.

Holidays hadn’t been truly relaxing for you, since it was the most you had worked, actually, but you had to admit that the extra-money had been comfortable, although Ivar helped you with medical bills, and more.

(He had still slipped a gift card for some of your favorite shops in the Christmas gift he had given to you, and although you were stubborn, you had to admit that they had all been useful and used).

You had been actually saving up on some tips to maybe think about restarting college.

You had actually checked through online courses and scholarships to see how realizable it could be.

For now, it was still a dream, but you hadn’t dared to dwell on it for too long ago.

You might look awfully, but you had an idea and that was much more than you had ever thought to own.

You were halfway through entering the coffee shop, when somebody exited it and you moved to the side to avoid a crash with that person, holding two hot beverages in her hands.

Which allowed you to get a look at the person, to send them a small smile of apology.

But the face was familiar, too familiar.

“Gunnhild?” you asked, surprised to see your high school friend.

You had actually been best friends during high school and Gunnhild had been one of the most supportive people during your pregnancy, helping you with homework and gifting Eric his first toy.

You had lost sight of each other after she had gone to college meanwhile you remained at home.

You, both were still very active through chats and your own social medias, enough for you to know that she had been achieving all her dreams, having gone from a business major onto a brilliant work as CEO in her own enterprise.

Something that definitely kept her busy, these days.

So, you were honestly surprised to see her, there.

It didn’t take her long to recognize you, and you couldn’t deny that you were definitely happy to see her again, although being hugged by somebody that wasn’t a five year old, felt strange to you, but it took you just a few minutes to ease down from that feeling.

“Oh Gosh, (Y/N)!” she shot back, as she slowly released you from her hold and then almost jumped on her place out of sheer happiness, something that made you worried truly for the coffee in her hands “… it’s been so long!”.

“Too long” was all you could mutter, with a small smile on your face “… I do know that you are pretty busy… I see all of your trips on Instagram by the way!”.

You hated the way your voice sounded like a straight up stalker but Gunnhild looked just happy to see you but before she could reply anything, a client of the coffee shop coughed loudly to be let past the two of you, who were blocking the entrance.

“… happy to see you, too” mumbled Gunnhild, after the interruption “… Eric has certainly grown, as a handsome young boy”.

“You say that just because you see him through photos” you joked “… are you in the city for a trip or…?”.

“… kind of a trip” the way she smirked revealed to you, much more than the words.

And the shy blush on her cheeks did the rest of the job.

She might have always been the smarter and tougher of the two, but love had a mysterious way to work with things.

“… I am visiting my boyfriend, I’ll stay a few days in here but…” and then she got what looked like a small card out of her elegant purse, definitely more expensive than your whole outfit.

Sometimes her whole life made you envy her heavily and many times you had thought to unfollow her or block her contact, because she reminded you of the life you had wanted but hadn’t been able to achieve because of the pregnancy.

Never because of Eric.

You were happy with your life.

But if you had to say the truth: you weren’t satisfied with it.

And that thought always made you feel like a terrible mother.

But slowly you had just gotten over this emotion, eventually settling up on simply admiring the life she had built.

“… this is my number, I changed it, because of some work issues” she offered to you the small expensive piece of paper, where you could see a number with the name of your friend and of her company “… we should definitely met up one of these days… to catch up”.

You took the small number and nodded, honestly wanting to catch up with your friend, although you felt like time would be a rather troublesome question.

“I’d love to” you muttered and gave her your number, writing it on the back of an old receipt.

She hugged you one last time, this time no rush to get out of it from neither of the partecipants and you felt like you were sixteen again, your heart broken by somebody who told you that ‘he didn’t love you, anymore’ and Gunnhild was consoling you.

Some things never changed.

“… I’ll count on a call” she muttered softly as you disentangled yourself from her, nodding and then she turned to run away, probably impatient to meet up with her lover.

And you couldn’t blame her.

She turned to you one more time to blow you a kiss, as you always did when you were younger, making you smirk when you returned it.

A smile was gracing your mouth, as you reentered in the art gallery.

* * *

Ivar knew that hating ‘in-laws’ was the actual worst comedic cliché in the whole sit-com genre.

And yet he couldn’t help but hate Freydis’ mother.

His mother-in-law.

And he got the idea that she reciprocated the feeling.

She had been with them, since he had come back the day after Thanksgiving, standing next to Freydis on the sofa, although she was at least an head shorter than her daughter, with a platinum blonde hairstyle that brought out the sharpness of her cheekbones.

Freydis, next to her, didn’t look in any way as relaxed as he thought he’d find her at his return, instead biting her lips and having her eyes stuck down on the floor tiles.

His soon-to-be-wife had always been a pretty submissive type, not one to go against his wishes, but the way she acted alongside her mother was almost reverent, in a way that that horrid hag didn’t deserve.

She had been cold with him, but he could tolerate coolness, he was an expert of it and since she was like that with him, he gave her his own side of the silent treatment and sharp glances.

But what he couldn’t stand, was the way she would noisily suggest changes in their lives, in a way that seemed constantly a backhanded compliment and after solely a week with her he had honestly understood why Freydis didn’t want her mother beside her.

Even more in the delicate situation she was now.

Thankfully, the Christmas holidays had been mostly spent without her noisy mother, since she had gone back to Freydis’ original city, to spend the New Year’s Eve with a few friends, although Ivar had heard what she had said before leaving.

‘I have seen the way you look at me…’ she had muttered once at Freydis, meanwhile the girl went around the room to collect a few items for her, meanwhile he set himself in a room nearby to work some things ‘… I’ll go somewhere where my suggestions aren’t ignored’.

It had taken everything in Ivar not to slam the door in her face and change the locks after she had gone away with her suitcase.

‘She’ll grow onto you’ had muttered Freydis, noticing her partner’s nervousness, although she also looked skeptical of this ‘… you just needed a bit of time’.

He had wanted to reply that the truth was that woman wouldn’t ever change and neither would Ivar’s opinion of her, but he tried to tolerate it for Freydis’ sake, whose pregnancy had gone back to normalcy, no blood stain anymore, and at the last gynecologic visit he had seen the sonogram of the small one, making him almost cry as Freydis joked about it, but she looked also positively glowing.

And yet it wasn’t her face that Ivar had seen as he met it.

It was yours.

The same one that had been haunting him since he had woken up on that fateful morning, after the Thanksgiving spent at his mother’s house.

You had both fallen asleep after having promised to stay just a bit with each other, for Eric’s sake, but eventually Ivar hadn’t been able to keep himself awake for long after that, ending up asleep and you had been out cold even before him.

And he had done the fatal mistake of looking at you, that morning.

And he had found out that what he truly wanted was to wake up to you many and many more times.

He had instinctively reached out a hand to thread it through your hair.

Attentively, since he remembered how much you hated when he touched them without any invitation from you, but you’d almost purr whenever he scratched lightly the right pot on your head.

And you didn’t deny him this time, although nothing in you was awake, and you gently sighed at the gentle gesture, moving closer and eventually your body started to relax itself comfortably.

It had felt all so natural.

And he had then understood the burning truth that had been haunting him for weeks.

It was you.

It had always been you.

And yet, he was now with Freydis, a woman he felt deep feelings for, but he knew nothing of her in the way he did of you, feeling the embers of his crush for you rekindling themselves, the closer you came together.

With Freydis he had rushed things, although he had wanted them.

But he didn’t even know her truly.

And this was heaving itself on their relationship, making them feel as two strangers who were facing each other and would have to grow together a creature in a few months, and in a month from that day he and Freydis would be an official couple.

And he couldn’t be less excited at that thought.

But he couldn’t back down, no matter how much he wanted to.

Ivar wasn’t one to leave things half done, even more when he had his own responsibilities to take care of, since Freydis was pregnant with a child that was his and that they had both wanted.

Nobody other than Freydis could have handled him.

You certainly wouldn’t have, as much as he hated that thought.

Everything about him just seemed to much.

But right now, his sole thought was to keep on going.

To keep on pretending.

Maybe whatever he felt with you would have disappeared with the arrival of baby Lothbrock…

… and the wedding would have intensified things, for sure.

And yet, those promises all felt like lies to him.

He had been having problematics to focus on work because of that, although he blamed his worries onto both his ‘demonic mother-in-law’ and the upcoming marriage.

And he wasn’t able to fool either Oleg and Heahmund, although both the men had chosen to pretend to ignore everything out of the ordinary they saw.

For his own sake.

Two true friends.

He had been trying to get his eyes to work on the latest financial projects for the past half an hour, instead of the way your nose would scrunch up in your sleep, when he heard a knocking on the door.

He knew that Oleg had no idea or knowledge of privacy and Heahmund would just knock if he needed holidays and considering he was on them already he had no clue who it was.

You had come only once to his work, mostly because he wanted you to sign some papers for insurance, in order to put Eric’s name on it.

Both Oleg and Heahmund had strangely been there when you had walked in, being the noisy bitches they were, catching completely your figure hugged in a comfortable but elegant fit, making you stand out, alongside with the adorable blush on your cheeks

He had wanted to do it at his house, knowing that not only you were taking a permit from work, but you also didn’t feel comfortable in places like Ivar’s work place and he couldn’t blame you.

Many had been ‘kindly’ informed by Sigurd of his impotency so there wouldn’t be any kind of rumors that could bloom from your presence there, even more when you had come looking completely like one of his associates.

Still his workplace was the sole place where his mother-in-law wouldn’t have looked disapprovingly at the mother of his child, since Agneta, had been incredibly rude to (Y/N).

Freydis, herself, had a good relationship with you, although he could see the strain it took on her and how unlikely that relationship could be.

But Agneta just completely and utterly despised you.

Her and ‘her bastard offspring’.

He had once caught her saying that to Freydis, meanwhile they set down clothes for the baby, the result of a baby shower, one of the many Agneta had obliged Freydis to undergo, although his fiancé looked as interested to go there as Ivar.

Which wasn’t much.

‘… she just waltzes in here with a child and pretends that she can own this place’ she had said and Ivar had had to cut his palm deep with his nails to avoid throwing hands with that awful woman.

‘Mom, she is…’ Freydis’ voice had seemed to almost want to protest, but then she held the words settling up for a small ‘… she isn’t like that’.

‘Then why stick around and not allow that man to start an amazing new life?!’.

He had then left, driving around his car for two hours, before coming home.

And he still wanted to push out that woman.

As he was thinking all of this, he heard a knocking on the door.

And for a moment he went ‘speak of the devil’ considering that it might have been indeed Agneta.

But it was worse.

After his small ‘come forward’ he was faced with his stepbrother, Bjorn.

Another one of the disbelievers of his relationship with you and Eric.

He was actually starting to enjoy Sigurd’s friendship with you.

Hvitserk had also been quite good with Eric, mostly because he was a child himself.

Ubbe had liked you back then, he had actually admired you for your dreams and for the fact that you made Ivar feel comfortable, making him act better around you.

Bjorn hadn’t minded you.

He hadn’t exactly despised you.

But he had despised that you had ‘changed’ Ivar.

He preferred the shadowy and rough guy Ivar was whenever you weren’t there with him.

He was easier to manipulate.

It had taken Ivar five years to understand it.

But he had.

And now he didn’t trust Bjorn in the slightest.

Both him and Ubbe had tried to approach him, after Eric had been revealed to his family.

Bjorn had sent him many articles about how men had been tricked into marriage and giving money from women who pretended to be their baby mamas.

Ubbe, instead, had confronted him, meanwhile you slept on Thanksgiving, telling him to get a DNA test, at least, before he even gave you any money.

As if there was any chance of you having had a relationship with somebody other than Ivar who had osteogenesis imperfecta, getting pregnant and trying to avoid him desperately.

And Eric was his son.

He felt it in his veins.

Although it was rational, but if women had the motherly instinct, he felt like men, who were even more primitive beings, had to have some kind of fatherly instinct.

And his told him that Eric was his son.

His first one, at least.

He had wanted to shut them both off immediately, but he guessed that working in a family industry meant that you got to see your brothers more than you liked.

And sometimes when you wanted to stab them with the elegant pen he was signing documents with.

“Hello there, brother” his casual comment made Ivar immediately realize that he wasn’t there for work and that, as it always happened, he needed a favor.

And Ivar remembered clearly that back then, when Bjorn was his idol, he had once broken up for him with a girl, gaining a desperate slap, that had wounded more his ego, than his face and by now he granted favors to his brother very rarely.

And in most cases, those favors appeared to benefit Ivar, too.

So, he assumed immediately a denying stance, as he crossed his arms and raised himself in order for him to look at him in the eyes, meanwhile he crushed whatever idea his big bear of a brother had come up with.

He hadn’t certainly grown that much, aside from the physical aspect of things.

“… what do you want?”.

“Never once for middle measures, brother?” the last part sounded bitterly painful and it just intensified Ivar ‘no bullshit policy’.

“… never have been” he uttered, as he put down the pen, before he came up with dangerous ideas “… again: what do you want, Bjorn? I don’t have all day… I am a busy man…”.

“Yeah, too busy” that was a hint that his brother was plotting something heavy “… that’s why I thought that you needed a break”.

“Last time I checked I had my own mental capabilities” muttered Ivar, feeling like his brother had finally chosen to settle in his brotherly role.

Right when Ivar least wanted him to.

Ubbe and Hvitserk were annoying but not dangerous.

Meanwhile Bjorn had a certain pendant for corrupting everything good around him.

Ivar had half a thought that his mothers’ rivalry had passed itself down onto them.

But there wasn’t no middle ground between him and Bjorn.

He was simply better than him.

… although the words of his father rung true in his ears after days of thinking constantly about them.

His father and Bjorn were the kind of men who had always put their feet in various shoes, never choosing, but Ivar’s ‘moral integrity’ had never allowed that, alongside the fact that having ‘his little problem’ had always stopped him from focusing on the relationships of his life.

Till Freydis had come along, being apple of his life: she had wanted everything that he wanted and in the end it had been what had brought them to be together, sharing a common view on so many things that Ivar knew he needed in his life.

But did he truly want them?

Or had he been forced to feel like they were utterly necessary in his life.

He just knew that he wanted you.

And an easy life with you and Eric.

And yet, he couldn’t discard Freydis.

“Oh, c’mon, since you got together with Freydis, you barely have fun and don’t lie about having fun… we all know that these are the last months of your utter freedom!” that didn’t seem like the best of plans “… and I thought I’d do something special for you…”.

“If that special thing is offering me a bachelor party with strippers, Hvitserk already got it covered” which he had already programmed to skip easily with a lie “… but I do appreciate the thought”.

The last part of the conversation was bitterly sweet, and it got Bjorn to back off near the entrance, making Ivar think that he got whatever horrible plan his step-brother had come up with covered…

He got it under control.

And then Bjorn smiled deviously.

“I have something better for you”.

Shit.

He hadn’t considered that Bjorn would go for something more awful than strippers.

“… I actually have two bookings at a spa, in the mountains, a nice place to relax and have a bit of fun, without any soon-to-be-wife, hot on your tails”:

That wasn’t such a bad idea.

Hadn’t it been for having to spend time with Bjorn.

“Did your last hook-up leave you at the last minute?”.

His phrase was venomous enough that he thought this would have prompted him to leave.

But Bjorn stood his ground.

“I just… wanted to do something good for my brother” he was almost convincing in his broken attempt to be an heartwarming supporter “… we haven’t spent much time together, since you were a little punk, so I thought we could spend your last single days together”.

It wasn’t such a horrible proposal.

But Ivar who was suspecting by nature couldn’t help but feel damnably uncomfortable by it, although it seemed harmless.

A small dudes-retreat in the wood, it wouldn’t have been so bad.

Even more now that his mother-in-law drove him crazy, back at home.

But he didn’t know if it would have been good to leave Freydis.

And you.

He felt guilt flood over him and eventually another vacation wouldn’t have been so bad, even more because it would have allowed Ivar to be without the two women of his life.

And it might indeed help his mind clear a bit.

But on the downside, he’d have Bjorn as a party mate.

Which wasn’t a good thing, because if he had learned one thing was that his brother just wanted to make either his own or others’ life miserable.

“… I’ll think about it”.

And apparently Bjorn took it as a ‘yes’ because he started talking all about the activities they would have done and the plans he had in mind and most importantly, the booze.

And Ivar already knew he would need a lot.

* * *

You had been patiently waiting for Gunnhild’s phone call.

Although you had friends as Angelika and Caryn, you couldn’t help but miss the old life that Gunnhild represented for you.

And the phone didn’t falter in ringing, right after you had finished drying Eric from the shower, the boy promptly understanding to go in his room and your mother quickly followed him, so that they could play ‘Avengers’ with the new action figures Ivar had got him for Christmas.

He had gotten himself quite invested in the franchise simply for his son’s sake and by now you weren’t surprised that he knew half the script by heart, by now.

“… hello there” Gunnhild’s voice sounded quit frantic and deaf to her ears, the kind of voice you knew personally came from having your heart broken and for a moment you wanted to tell her if she needed to call you back or something…

… it reminded you of a similar situation.

Except you had been the one crying.

“Is everything alright?” you didn’t mean to be noisy, you just wanted to know if you could do something.

Being a mother certainly did help with understanding more people.

And it gave you the unnatural ability to want to pick up on everyone and save everything.

It made you feel empty when people didn’t want your help and eventually it had brought you to be without energy.

But that awful sensation had simply made you to harden yourself.

Although sometime tears were still shed.

And you lived in the constant fear of Eric leaving you.

“… just a long day… you know jetlag and all that shit” a shaky breath was more revelatory than a confession and this time she wasn’t able to stop herself uttering those words “… I am actually… these things can’t be discussed over the phone, do you know any cheap bars where we could end up having a karaoke night?”.

Had it happened a few years ago, before having harbored a little life in your stomach, you wouldn’t have hesitated, even more because Gunnhild’s voice made it seem like she was truly in pain.

But right now, you weren’t able to simply avoid hearing Eric’s happy chirps in his room using his voice to seem Thor, his favorite hero and it made you hesitant to leave your ‘nest’.

“… I…”.

“Shit, I forgot… you now have a child” it seemed like it mounted an extreme distance between them, although they were at the same age “… I… just forget about everything, please”.

“No, don’t worry” it had been just a long time since you had been allowed to have worries that didn’t involve your crying child “… it’s just… give me a few minutes to set up and… and I’ll send you the address to a place”.

The line went silent and for a moment you were sure that Gunnhild had ended the phone call and you held in your breath.

“… thank you” Gunnhild’s voice although damnably frail was slightly happier now and you couldn’t help but think again back to when it had been her taking care of you on the other line of the phone “… I’ll… wait… send me a message, if you can come… if not…”.

A sob broke through her lips and you almost felt the need to be next to her, already knowing that whatever it was, love was involved.

Only love could make people act so foolishly.

You knew a thing or two about that.

You had kept a baby for love.

And you were halfway through ruining your life again, for the awaking feeling you felt for Ivar.

“… just give me a few minutes”.

And as you turned around, your mother was already holding your coat in her hands, meanwhile Eric was reading out loud in his room, probably to entertain himself meanwhile you were both busy.

“… I don’t…”.

“We’ll manage” muttered your mother “… and don’t worry, it’s half an hour to his bedtime and Ivar will facetime him in a few minutes, so we’ll manage even without you…”.

“Very nice to hear from a worried mother” you muttered sarcastically but shot a quick thankful smile to your mother.

You never thought that you’d thank her enough for having stuck with you and Eric, both, after you had discovered that you were pregnant and your father had left her.

She had always been so strong, and you liked thinking that if you had inherited something from her, it was definitely her strength in spite of everything that had happened.

“Just go”.

“I’ll be back before midnight” you promised as you laced quickly your boots, the first shoes that you had found by the door, moving for a quick kiss to Eric, who seemed surprised by your ‘nightly date’.

‘Are you going out with Angelika, again?’ he made you laugh softly and you explained that it was an high school friend.

One that he had actually seen her when he wasn’t anything more than a ‘small pebble’.

‘… then can I go with you to see her again?’.

‘Let me see…’ you muttered with fake wonder in your voice, before gently rolling him onto his side so that you could sit down and tickle him softly, as he laughed ‘… don’t you have school, tomorrow’.

Eric protested weakly against you, as the phone rumbled again, and you knew that it was Ivar.

You swiftly switched your phone with your mother’s, sending Gunnhild’s number there so that you’d be able to contact her.

With a last wink you were sent away by your mother, towards the small pub you had found as you drove around with a screaming three year old in your backseat, hoping to ease Eric down from his hissy fit and make him go to sleep.

And the pub had been there, always open.

No matter what.

In the end you had also worked there for a few nights and although you had moved onto a classier one in the center of the city for your few ‘girls nights’ with Angelika, you couldn’t deny that it was one of the few stable connection that you had to this place.

So, it only seemed obvious for you to go there.

You went there by feet, used to the neighborhood, much less scary than it seemed, and you were used to your speed-walking at any time of the day so you arrived safe and sound.

But a quick look to Gunnhild, set up in front of the barstool made you feel underdressed.

She had always been gorgeous in a way that wasn’t clear in high school but now you couldn’t help but admire her tall and elegant frame clothed in the finest little black dress you had ever seen.

Meanwhile you were barely out of your pajama in the first comfortable clean sweater you had found on the chair next to the door, used as a clothes hanger.

The pants were disformed leggings matched with the sweater reached past your knees, probably belonging to your mother now that you took a quick look at the tight cleavage it didn’t show.

And you scandalously hadn’t even worn your bra.

For a moment you wanted to turn around and push yourself in the first cheap suit you could find, one of the those you used at work, but then Gunnhild’s blood shot eyes met yours.

And you weren’t able to simply back off.

Instead you felt lured in, as you shed your coat, tucking it under your shoulder and checking the few rolls of dollars you could find in their pockets, glad of having the ugly habit of leaving everything in the pockets.

Which needed to have the holes, in them, closed.

… you’d do it first thing first in the morning, although you doubted that you’d remember.

It felt awkward as you slid near to Gunnhild, the woman quickly ordering the bartender to fill the glass she had in front of her and from the clear liquid in it you knew that it was straight up vodka.

And you immediately mouthed to the guy, who served her, a small ‘how many?’.

And he sneakily raised three fingers, making you release a small breath of relief.

Till she reached five drinks, you would have been fine.

You still remembered when you had once passed the New Year’s Eve together, since both your parents had wanted to go on an excursion together and neither of you had wanted to follow them.

The whole thing had ended up in a riot of badly mixed drinks and blurry conversation.

It had felt good.

And the memory washed over the awkwardness between you two.

“You look amazing” you laughed at Gunnhild’s comment, shaking slowly your head as you faced the bartender again to order a small can of coke.

Fuck it diet.

“… admit it you already started drinking for saying something like that” you shot back as you discreetly brough the can to your lips, glad not to have to talk as Gunnhild’s eyes became somehow nostalgic and you couldn’t decipher what she was thinking.

Again, you had passed from being best friends to being complete strangers to one another.

“No, I do have to say that you look positively glowing!”.

“Then you must be the sun!” you shot back, the awkward laughter between you, making you push towards muttering something “… do you want to talk about it?”.

“Part of me does, and part of me doesn’t…” she muttered almost as if she was chewing on the words “… but to say it in a few words: I broke up with the man I thought was the love of my life”.

Shit.

Well, you had certainly experience in that.

And with a quick gesture to the bartender, you made him give you both a drink.

“Shit, I am utterly sorry” Gunnhild simply sent you a look as if to say ‘what can you do about it’ “… but is it definite? Because some couple can have misunderstandings and such…”.

“… I found him in bed with another girl”.

Well that wasn’t definitely a misunderstanding.

“I am…”.

“… if you were going to say ‘disgusted’ I agree” she muttered “… that’s the first thing I thought… and to think that I actually planned to step down from the new promotion for him…”.

“… disgusting pig” you muttered under your breath.

“That’s what I thought” shot back Gunnhild clicking your glasses together “… I swear that I’ll burn those sheets”.

“I’ll help you” your reply made you both laugh hoarsely “… but let me tell you that, although you aren’t feeling it, you’ll be glad to have dropped such a dead weight”.

“I hope so” she muttered as she threw down her next glass “… the sex wasn’t even good”.

As somebody who hadn’t had sex in five long years, you couldn’t help but blush lightly.

“… better” you were simply able to mutter after downing a shot of tequila, the liquor burning your tongue and reminding you that you hadn’t certainly the age for certain things anymore.

Although Gunnhild had certainly heightened her alcohol resistance.

Meanwhile you were ready to be gone, fast asleep.

“And he was a fucking cunt with a small dick…” she twirled elegantly the transparent liquid in her glass “… in every sense”.

You smiled empathically at her, gently caressing her back, as one would to ease a nervous child and you had much experience with that.

“… sorry I must sound like a broken record”.

“It’s okay” you mumbled softly “… I do have to say that all my interlocutors as of lately have been five or younger than that, so you don’t have a lot of competition”.

You both laughed softly and you could see that although Gunnhild looked like she might still need to breath out some more fire, she was softening up and you were glad that the tears on her cheeks looked dried up, completely.

“… how is Eric?”.

The answer caught you off guard and you couldn’t deny that it took you a few minutes to open yourself up about the little world you had built for you and Eric, now being opened slowly.

Something that had started with Ivar and evolved onto his family.

And now Gunnhild.

It felt awkward for you to even reveal softly that ‘Eric was actually fine and living his best child life’.

Photos were easier, but your mother’s phone didn’t have many, since she had learned how to use it just a month before.

So, you resorted to words.

“… it just feels strange now that Ivar is with us” and as you hadn’t realized the lack of knowledge of Gunnhild about the matter, the woman looked at you surprised as if you had told her that you had seen a ghost.

And had a picture of it.

And her heartbreak turned in curiousness.

Her hands shot to yours and you almost dropped your phone as your tongue was finally loose due to the few drinks you had drowned in one swift gulp.

“… he is… kind of back in the picture”.

“When did it happen?” Gunnhild’s eyes looked at you with an interested laced with suspect, making you feel almost ashamed with the way you had acted so freely with Ivar, after you had stained a few of her favorite shirts with your tears he had dumped you so ruthlessly “… did he search you or…?”.

“He kind of found us” and you proceeded to talk it about everything that had happened.

About how you had bumped into Ivar in the park, starting the strange relationship to co-parent your shared child.

Something that had strangely gone better than you thought.

And it wasn’t enough to convince Gunnhild, with the way her eyes shifted to the rim of her glass where she passed her gentle finger, making a clear sound that covered the silence between you two.

“… it almost made me think that I did wrong in not saying anything to him…”.

“No, no, he honestly had no right to know” and the rage in her eyes for awful men was burning intensely and you gulped down one last drip of saliva in your mouth, suddenly feeling like your mouth was a desert, and you ordered quickly a glass of water.

Which would be your last drink, since you felt like your legs were starting to shake.

“… he was awful to you, (Y/N), and I am honestly surprised that he…” she stopped before she completed the phrase although you knew what she meant truly.

She was surprised that Ivar had settled so easily in the role of a father.

And you were too.

But as your relationship developed further you couldn’t deny that you were slowly falling in love with Ivar for the role that he had been assigned through Eric.

After weeks and weeks of crushing over him, you had understood that something had changed in your feelings.

It wasn’t a crush anymore it was the mature love that came with years.

And yet it didn’t ease in any way the pain in your chest.

But it made you blind and deaf to it.

And yet it was impossible for your love to succeed.

And you chose to leave out that detail, when talking with your friend.

Gunnhild already looked quite wary about men, no need for you to push her onto much more hate.

Because if there was one thing that you had learned from your own experience was that after all that rage, after an heartbreak, there was a hole, instead of your heart, that consumed you whole.

And still took everything from you.

“… I was surprised too” you shot back, gently chewing on the straw to ease up your nervousness.

And thankfully with a last nod, Gunnhild’s conversation pushed itself on other matters, focusing on the new interesting works she had been offered in Iceland, something that she was looking forward and although you couldn’t deny your envy for her life, you were happy that she’d have her career to console her after that love delusion.

And knowing the beauty that you had in front of yourself, it wouldn’t have taken her much time to forget the idiot that had broken her heart.

In the end Gunnhild offered herself to reaccompany you back home, after she had heard that you would be walking home alone and with no uber and taxi.

No matter the fact that you had insisted that you were right around the block.

‘… you didn’t let me pay for the drinks, at least let me give you a ride back home’.

And as you checked the hour, waiting for Gunnhild to pay her own bill, you found out that the ‘one hour’ you were supposed to spend away from home had turned in four hours and it was past midnight, making you want to rush in like Cinderella.

In Gunnhild’s car, a sportive and sleek one, you immediately remembered why you had always preferred coming back home from school with Ivar’s less impressive car, inherited from one brother to another, till Ragnar chose to bless them with the ugliest and biggest range rover he could find.

Gunnhild was downright crazy behind the wheel.

And what was worst was that she continued on talking, cheerily, as she drove.

You wanted to puke more than back when you had been pregnant.

“… it was nice to see you again” she said as she moved to turn the car at the last minute, making you utter a light ‘God’ “… I forgot how much fun we had together and with tequila”.

“You forgot the aftermath of it” you muttered, feeling like the two shots you had done were already troubling your tired digestion, as your eyes closed softly, and you were stopped from falling asleep solely for the adrenaline in your brain for the reckless driving of your friend.

“… I just remember you running to the bathroom”.

“… you did too” you muttered suddenly finding yourself laughing “… and I had to push your hair back”.

“I do remember that, now” the tires screeched so loudly in the next turn that you were sure she’d lose the car’s control “… Gosh, I still don’t know how we managed to appear decent after that… our parent never knew”.

You were sure that your mother had known it from the start, when you had literally slept the following day, acting like a vampire, but you didn’t want to destroy Gunnhild’s bubble.

And you remembered that Ivar had actually checked on you, worried that your lack of answers to his message might signal to him that you were in trouble and he had driven from down his family’s mountain chateau to you.

And it had felt good to know he’d come for you.

It still felt good.

“… we should do it again, one day”.

“We aren’t sixteen, anymore” you shot back, as you finally noticed that you had arrived home and it wasn’t solely the safety belt that held you in place but the memories that were in the air between you and Gunnhild.

“… and we aren’t forty, yet”.

“When you become mother, your age constantly shifts from five to fifty, so that doesn’t count for me” you mumbled softly with a small smile, as you found the strength to undo the belt, at least a start to get out from that nostalgic evening.

“Ok… I’ll bring wine since you are a wine mom, apparently” she shot back as she played with her fingers on the wheel, a slow shade of nostalgia also on her face “… and I’ll be the vodka aunt”.

“That seems like quit a party” and as you finished the phrase suddenly you were enveloped in Gunnhild’s embrace and it was only natural for you to hug her back.

“I missed you”.

“I missed you, too”.

* * *

That morning your head pounded horridly and when Ivar had told you that he’d like for you and Eric to have dinner together with him and Freydis, and his lovely… lovely mother-in-law you were halfway through using it as an excuse to avoid it.

‘I’ll have to see with mom and Eric’ you ended up texting, once you were able to look at the screen without cringing for the ‘excessive light’.

Eric had already stayed awake past his curfew, due to your mother being unable to tell him no, and you had noticed that he had almost fallen asleep during breakfast.

But you also knew that it was important for him to spend time with Ivar.

Teachers were saying that this relationship had improved his social skills a lot, mostly through making him interact more during class and you were glad to know about that.

And worried as always.

‘… don’t worry, do take your time but know…” and a message had come in a few minutes later with a photo of his worst ‘face of desperation’ “… but you’d do me a favor”.

How could that still work for you after everything?

Where was your broken heart?

Being glued badly, probably.

You shot back a picture of you in your best ‘stern wine mom’ expression, as another message caught you, and you couldn’t deny that it had been the most message you had had in a lot of time.

Angelika was most of the time snapping you, although you found yourself somehow too old for that, meanwhile you tried not to contact Caryn, much.

Because most of the time it meant bad things.

For Eric.

So, you weren’t exactly surprised to see that it was Gunnhild.

You expected some comments about hangover mornings or a simple ‘thank you’ for last night, but it happened to be much more.

It was a proposal.

‘Do you have something to do in the weekend?’.

You honestly hadn’t anything planned, except a life-long nap after you gave Eric over to Ivar, since it was your free day after a long time.

‘Good morning to you, too, sunshine’ you answered briefly with a lot of laughing faces ‘… and I actually have nothing, if you’d like to meet up, meanwhile you are still here…’.

You wouldn’t have been against a coffee, maybe to check up on your friend.

It had been a long time since you had last seen here, but her ‘scandalous proposal’ definitely surprised you.

‘… I had planned for a spa trip, not far from here, with my boyfriend, but… I now… happen to have a ticket more since that scumbag decided to flee my life for good’.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

‘… and I was thinking that maybe we could have a nice weekend together, since I had the time of my life yesterday, talking with you like old times’ explained Gunnhild in the text ‘… I do know that your life is quite busy… with Eric, but I saw the bad under your eyes’.

You checked them quickly in the translucent black screen of your computer, indeed realizing that a few nights of good sleep would have done you good.

But you hadn’t the time.

And neither you did for a spa.

Although you could have asked to both your mother or to Ivar to take care of Eric for the weekend (which would have already been a struggle for you) you weren’t sure that you could spare a little money for the whole spa experience.

And more than that you weren’t sure that as a mom you were allowed a free day from worrying, because even if you had gone there, you would have been completely and utterly focused on what might happen to Eric, back at home.

If he was well.

If his legs were well.

And yet, it was a thing that you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to explain to Gunnhild and you didn’t want her to think that you were simply ditching her for your own anxieties.

You were almost ashamed to admit that sometimes you couldn’t just think past the day you had been living because it would have meant too many questions without answers.

And those were the same questions that would haunt you during the night.

‘I’ll get back to you, before tomorrow’ a polite way to say ‘got it, but I haven’t thought about an excuse yet’ and Gunnhild simply sent you back a ‘thumbs up’ as if to say ‘… got it and I’ll believe your good spirit’.

And the question haunted you, as you eventually chose to answer positively to Ivar’s request for having a dinner together, this way you’d be able to discuss with him the proposal of the spa.

You carried all the heavy burdens onto you.

And eventually it’d be your downfall.

But before talking with Ivar, you chose to talk about it with your mother, meanwhile you waited to pick up Eric from Angelika’s house, since you had picked her up from the florist shop she had started working one some afternoons.

‘That’s great news!’ commented softly your mother, after you told her about Gunnhild’s proposal definitely more excited than you about the entire thing ‘… ahh I always liked Gunnhild! It’s a pity that you grew apart after high school…’.

‘And what about Eric?’ you muttered as you attentively parked in the elegant entrance of Angelika’s modern condo ‘… I don’t even know if Ivar will take him for the week…’.

‘Sweetie, not to say anything but… I am not yet a complete idiot and I can deal with Eric, meanwhile you are away, we used to do it always when you were working yourself to the bone…’.

‘Yeah, but… with… jobs it was different’ you uttered, although your mother’s tone didn’t imply and want any reply and she sent you a quick look as if to say ‘ do dare to go on’ ‘… I was forced to do it, meanwhile now… I am choosing to abandon Eric’.

‘First of all, sweetheart, you aren’t abandoning Eric’ she muttered, as she made you immediately turn your face to him ‘… you have given your everything to him… maybe even more than you should have…’.

‘… I just feel like… I have been an awful mother and the thought of me needing a bit of time without Eric, it just…”.

Your mother gently thumbed the tears you had started shedding and the soft gesture made you blabber up a small sigh that had been waiting in your throat, as all the weeks of tiredness, mixed with the anxiety and guilt you had felt came down, washing away all your sureness.

“Sweetie, I am going to start with saying that you are the complete contrary of being an awful mother, and I can testify to that with my own motherly experience”.

“You always take care of Eric and make sure to be around him, even more than it is necessary…” a slight severe glare was in her eyes as she uttered those words “… and I understand why you have this need: since he was born you have had to do it all on your own… and it’s impressive how far you have come”.

You had never honestly stopped for a moment or even simply admire or think about how far you had come, it seemed like you never had the time for it and eventually it had just eluded your sight.

“… and I don’t think that it is proper that you do this to yourself” she commented softly, as her hands started to gently lower on your shoulders, gripping you tight as if to say ‘I am here, for you and with you’ “… you have always thought of this as your fault, of the whole pregnancy as your fault”.

And it was the complete truth.

Although your parents hadn’t destroyed you completely or hadn’t pushed you to assume decisions you didn’t want, you knew, mostly from by father, that your choice to keep the baby had been always viewed as unfair.

As the ‘choice’ to end up pregnant.

As if you hadn’t been in two during the act.

And yet the fault, the gossiping eyes and the comments were always aimed to you.

And soon they had become true also in your own words.

“… I know that you don’t think it is true, but all of this isn’t somebody’s fault” continued your mother with a soft smile as her hands gently caressed the skin under your chin “… it just happened and since it did, you have done everything in your power not to make that child miss anything”.

Now your tears were definitely flooding free and for a moment, you couldn’t deny that all those heavy worries that you had taken upon yourself since you had become a mother, were slowly pushing themselves away from your shoulders, revealing your true age.

You were barely twenty and, whereas you should have been happy and going out drinking, you were now having to take care of a child, a child you loved but you couldn’t deny that it wasn’t heavy.

And all the guilt and uneasiness and insecurities didn’t help.

“You are a wonderful mother, (Y/N)” said your mother, as she gently kissed your forehead, something that you always did to an upset Eric and, exactly like him, you also stopped fussing as you listened onto those words.

Desperate for validation.

And for receptance.

In the end it was mothers that took on their children’s worries.

And your mother knew how not to make them stand heavily onto her soul, something that you had yet to know.

“… you’ll go on that vacation, no matter what, understood”.

“I haven’t even… asked Ivar…”.

“Doesn’t matter” muttered your mother, with such a strength in your tone that made you smirk lightly, a croaked laugh exiting your mouth “… I’ll take care of Eric, it isn’t a problem, but you do need a break, before you explode, alright, my sweet child”.

“Alright, mom” you bit down your lips to hold in another hoarse mutter “… I feel stupid”.

“I don’t think that you are in any way stupid” she told you, pushing back your hair so they wouldn’t get in your face, moving then to get a small tissue “… you are just tired and cranky”.

Both of you laughed softly but were interrupted by Angelika lightly knocking on the door of the car, asking if ‘she could join the party’, carrying Eric’s things as the boy sneaked in the backside, saying ‘goodbye’ to his friend.

“It’s kind of a pity party” you shot back to your friend, as the woman just shook her head as if to say ‘I’ll take it all’, but then moved to collect her own child, waving as you started the car to go home.

And you were glad that Eric talked excitedly for all the time, because it helped you not only to relax your choked tone, but also to collect a proper dialogue for what you meant to say about the weekend away to Eric.

In the end you went with a quick:

‘Mommy is going to have her own sleepover with a friend, during the weekend and you’ll be staying with dad Ivar, if you don’t have anything against that’.

Which prompted an immediate.

‘YES, ICE CREAM FOR DINNER’.

And a quick glare from your mother stopped you from changing your plans, immediately.

You’d have at least another mental breakdown before the end of this week.

* * *

Ivar had been extremely happy when you and Eric had joined him for dinner.

Even more after he had discovered that his ‘beloved’ monster-in-law was going to a soirée with some friends, leaving him and Freydis alone with you and your child.

But he had immediately noticed that something hung heavily on your head and as he invited you inside, he managed to get you away for a bit as Freydis played with Eric, saying that she was making some ‘practice for the future’.

You helped Ivar set up a few of the appetizers for the dinner on a small silver tray, as he chatted you up about work and such.

He did know that you had wanted to try to go back to school and get back to studying and he had even proposed to help you economically, but from the icy looks he gained whenever he talked to you about it, he had learned not to say anything.

‘… work has been awfully intense during these months and now it is suddenly quiet, but we still have a lot of paperwork to take care of, which makes it much much more annoying’ you explained softly, as you twirled elegantly the water he had offered you in the elegant glass.

He noticed immediately the way you shifted from wine.

Had you gone out drinking again?

He knew that he shouldn’t have judged you for your decision about your personal life: in the end you were as human as him and going out for a few drinks was something that many people did.

You were a responsible person.

And a responsible mother.

Which meant that you had probably dropped Eric off to your mother, who was someone that you trusted, and he did too.

But yet, the thought of you going out with somebody put him strangely at unease, although he knew that there was no reason for him to be jealous.

And there wasn’t anything wrong in you for wanting to restart your life.

With somebody that wasn’t Ivar.

With somebody who would have made part of Eric’s life.

Which wouldn’t happen if he could help it.

‘… and about this, I do think that I have something to say’ you commented slowly and softly, that kind of tone that had always made you get everything you wanted with him, back when you were together.

He might have always pretended of being tough and cool, but a battling of your eyelashes and he was gone.

And it was something that didn’t change.

‘… I have been offered to go with a friend to a spa, during the weekend and I was asking myself if you could take Eric for the weekend…’ it completely froze Ivar on the spot ‘… I don’t want to seem like I just want to leave you with my child, but…’.

He knew what you wanted to say and couldn’t, because it went against everything that you were: you were in need of a holiday and a bit of time away from that child that you smothered with your love.

And he couldn’t deny you that.

Although he didn’t exactly like the ‘friend’ thing.

It could have been a female as well as a male, and he wasn’t sure that the second option would have stayed as a ‘friend’, for long.

But he couldn’t just throw a hissy fit, when you weren’t even his girlfriend.

He still glared at the news a bit, but he nodded, before remembering that he had his own plans for that weekend.

‘… I would love to, you know… I’d love to spend some time with him, but I have work plans for this weekend, too’ he didn’t know why he lied about his plans with Bjorn, when clearly you had been truthful with you, no matter the fact that it evidently pained you and made you ashamed.

But he knew that he was still in the doghouse about his child, even after all those months spent together, and he knew that maybe if he had said that he was going on vacation, instead of taking care of the child, it might make him appear selfish.

And he didn’t want to have a bad reputation with you.

Meanwhile he didn’t seem to care as much as he did with Freydis, although he hadn’t also been able to tell her also the truth, even more because the ‘monster-in-law’ was constantly looking at him.

And then always promptly commenting about how he spent too much time at work and not enough with his family.

She would have had a straight up heart attack if he told her that he was taking a break from everything with his fuckboy of a brother, because in that house he couldn’t find anymore his place.

Since the wedding preparations had matched up with Freydis’ pregnancy, she had been pushing her whole soul in them, and although she asked Ivar’s opinion constantly, he felt like the obvious answer was hers.

So, he was stuck.

‘… oh… oh…’ you seemed a bit taken aback and for a moment he thought about the fact that he should have maybe deleted with his plans with Bjorn…

… that it was the best idea, considering that he constantly got screwed up whenever he was involved with his stepbrother.

“… then, if you do feel comfortable… I’ll leave him to my mom. She has said that she’ll take a weekend off from her job at the florist shop’.

‘I’ll ask Aslaug to check up’ it wasn’t that he didn’t trust your mother, but if he had told her that Eric was without his parents, she’d have a stroke and without a doubt she would have come to check.

‘… that’s very nice but…’.

‘… don’t try to protest, she’ll fight if you say anything’ shot back gently Ivar, with a smile that made your own appear on your face, although meek and gentle, something in you definitely being relieved by his approval, although the strange tense air remained between you.

It was the air of the typical ‘will they or won’t they’.

But you were both more in a ‘we couldn’t’ situation.

Freydis’ light thrill of a laughter brought you both back and soon you both went out of the kitchen, bringing the trays alongside with you.

An easy solution for the fact that both your hands had searched each other’s.

Saturday came and as you were leaving, kissing up every spare inch on your child’s face, much to his protests, you couldn’t help but have a dreading feeling in the pit of your stomach and many time that night you had told yourself ‘… just delete it, just tell Gunnhild you had a sudden thing…’.

And then you had just told yourself that you couldn’t just deal with things this way.

You couldn’t just delete plans with Gunnhild at the last minute.

And from what you were seeing Eric was pretty anxious to spend the time with his grandma, although he was bummed of not being able to stay with either you or Ivar.

Even more for the fact that this meant no ice cream for dinner.

(But you were sure that your mother would have made an exception for that night).

‘… I’ll be back soon’ you promised him, with one long kiss on his cute button nose ‘… do be a good boy with grandma and help her around the house, I’ll call you tonight, okie dokie?’.

‘Okie dokie!’ he shot back and this time it was him who laid a big fat and slobbery kiss onto your cheek, making you laugh in that moment, but you knew that you would have cried later ‘… do stay on your best behavior with grandma’.

She came into the view soon, offering to you your jacket, as you set one hand down the luggage at your side, a stern reminder of the trip that awaited you outside of the door…

… alongside a small horn sound from Gunnhild who was waiting outside and you just hugged one last time both your beloved son and your wise mother, reassuring yourself for one last time that they’d be fine, before you sprinted off with one last shouted ‘call me for anything’.

Once you were inside the car, after Gunnhild had helped you with the luggage, you were offered a warm container of hot beverage by your friend, and you were pleasantly happy to discover that it was hot cocoa, purring lightly as you were passed the aux cord.

‘Do pick out whatever station you want… or you Spotify playlist… as the cool kids say, these days’ Gunnhild muttered, as she again put herself under the wheel, almost risking to take under an old lady that was crossing the road.

“Just look at the road, please” you reminded her, shifting through the radio stations at first, and when it ended on a catchy song, you kept it going, till Gunnhild protested that it was Trisha Paytas, and it wasn’t her thing, in the slightest.

The whole hour of journey was spent with you wo bickering loudly over what you should have chosen as a playlist for this small moment, although it was all in good nature and it procured a few good laughs as you both smirked to each other’s awful tastes in music.

They had actually worsened during the years.

After you had checked in the lobby, having been given the sole key to your shared room (although Gunnhild had changed her reservation in two queens instead of a king bed, to leave you a bit of privacy) you immediately went to change, since the thermal implant would open soon.

And you both hoped to enjoy the whole entirety of the treatments.

You changed in the bathroom, being given a bit of privacy, to which you were grateful, because your naked body was something that you didn’t wish to be gazed upon by anybody.

And that was why the swimsuit you had chosen to stay in the thermal implant was quite… chaste.

It was an old thing that you had bought when Eric was still a baby and you had taken onto some swimming lessons to reinforce the mother-son bond.

It was fitted for your ‘after-pregnancy body’ a thing that showed scars on your slightly rounded tummy, signaling all the fat that you hadn’t been able to lose after the pregnancy, not having time for gym in your ‘busy’ life.

As if it wasn’t enough, you had huge stretchmarks on your abdomen, which didn’t go away even in your tannest moments, being so evident that you had done everything you could to avoid any show of it.

Even settling up on that chastely covering swimsuit, with a horrifying polka-dotted fantasy in black and fuchsia that seemed to come from the worst nightmare of a fashion designer.

But not only it made you feel covered and more importantly… comfortable, but you just thought that it would have been an awful waste of money to get another one, when you felt like the ones that you saw in each shop would have just made you feel at unease.

Sadly, Gunnhild hadn’t gotten the memo.

As soon as you got out of the room, covered in the thick hotel bathrobe to hid your own shames, she immediately noticed the monstrosity you were wearing and with a thick glare she made you reveal the one piece.

“… are you… seriously going out like that?” although you knew that she didn’t mean to sound snobby, you couldn’t help but feel like it was in these moments that the difference between you reached its peak “… I’ll lend you something”.

“Not a problem” you muttered softly, not only because you were sure that you wouldn’t have been comfortable in the flimsy and elegant bikinis that Gunnhild probably owned, but also because you didn’t want to bother her.

She had already paid all the expanses for the trip, starting from offering to bring you there with her own means, and although you had offered to contribute a bit, she had shot down any offer.

And as much as you knew she didn’t mean to, it made you feel like a charity case.

“… oh c’mon!” and then she went to check onto the swimsuits in her enormous luggage, getting out a green beauty that would have barely covered one cheek of your ass, although you knew it was supposed to do just that “… I have a few beauties for you too”.

And at your denial, she offered a floral fantasy choice with a lot of flimsy strings that just made you anxious about simply thinking solely how you’d even put it on.

Eventually she settled on an elegant high-waisted beauty, painted of navy blue that certainly brought out your complexion and complimented your silhouette, hiding what had to be hidden and elegantly enhancing what you had to give.

It seemed still a bit too much for you, but in the end, you couldn’t deny your friends for longer and even agreed for a selfie as you tightened the belt of the bathrobe, to keep it utterly closed.

The truth was that, although you knew that your body wasn’t conventionally pretty, you weren’t ashamed in any way of your maternity scars.

It was just that, exactly like Ivar’s legs, the stares were too much for you to handle them.

As Gunnhild posted the selfie of you two together, you sent a last message to your mother, to check in with her about Eric, since smartphones weren’t allowed in the thermal complex till the end of all the treatments.

‘To give the best relax and relief to our guests’ had said the guy that worked at the reception as he made you sign a few forms for privacy and such after you had checked in, making you curl lightly your mouth.

It wasn’t exactly relaxing for you to be without the possibility to contact your child, even more when you knew that Eric had days where he wouldn’t raise from bed and painkillers were the sole thing that made those days bearable.

But what destroyed you completely was that he’d spend those days sleeping… and for a moment just a moment, you always wondered whether he’d woke up.

But according to your mother, today he had been quite active.

Not to say restless.

Enough that she had had to propose cookies as a way to relax him, and the last text you got from here was a picture of them in front of the oven, waiting patiently.

You exited the room, then, with a soft smile at that memory, trying to hold onto that thought as Gunnhild joked around, probably having understood your gloomy mood.

“… thank you again… for everything…” you repeated although you knew that you had said it one too many times and Gunhild moved to shush you off, insisting that it was the least that she could do after having neglected for so long “… I truly mean it”.

“Well… I just had to give you a decent costume” she joked, as she sent you a small malicious look “… it might be your lucky day and you might meet the love of your life in the sauna!”.

“Great image”.

But the truth was that you hadn’t ever put yourself in any role that wasn’t motherly, during these years, which meant that you felt strange at being thought involved with somebody else of the opposite sex.

Even more now that Ivar had come back.

And had sat down on your heart, heavily.

As if it was his thing.

You had been surprised by his refusal to take on Eric for the weekend…

Although you shouldn’t have been offended too much, since he had his own life and you were on a pleasure trip, meanwhile he was probably going through an annoying work reunion.

“… I just hope you’ll relax a bit” she told you, leaning in lightly and linking your hands together “… and have a funny weekend, since I don’t know about you but I need a bit of steamy pleasures”.

And with a wiggle of her eyebrows you were sure that she didn’t mean simply the water.

Which was divine, by the way.

It soothed your nerves immediately and you had to admit that for a few moments you thought without a doubt that you’d fall asleep sitting on the comfortable bench on one side of the large thermal pool.

Gunnhild thankfully kept you awake, catching up on the many things you hadn’t said to each other during your last drinking night.

And then after that and before the lunch time you were supposed to have a nice treatment of marine salt scrub, exquisite for the skin, and you were supposed to do that experience with Gunnhild but as you were halfway through being set up in a beeline for it, you found out that Gunnhild was set up, due to her change of reservation, in front of you.

With somebody elde.

And you weren’t exactly happy of doing anything with a complete stranger by yours, who would rub salt all over themselves, but you did your best to stop yourself from panicking, as Gunnhild insisted with the person handling the whole thing for you to stick together.

‘… you see my friend would prefer for us to do the procedure together…’.

‘I am sorry, miss, but we have a precise order’ had simply shot back the woman who handled the salt scrub chamber, with a small smile that made you just more uncomfortable and in the end you just pushed back Gunnhild’s protests.

You’d walk in and you’d do what you had to do, without sparing a second glance to whoever you had been matched with.

And apparently to Gunnhild it didn’t go that bad, because although the tall man that had been matched with her wasn’t visible to you, your friend turned around with again those wiggling eyebrows.

And as you turned to welcome whoever would be your partner for this, you realized soon that Destiny truly liked screwing with you.

Beside you stood Ivar, in all his swimsuit-covered glory.

\---

He had been annoyed by hearing that he wouldn’t be able to access to the salt scrub procedure with Bjorn, not only because he didn’t like people in general but he preferred for his legs to be seen only by family.

And even that was restricted to certain special occasions.

At the news that they wouldn’t be matched up (for a giant screw up of Bjorn) he had insisted to just go back in the thermal pool for the time it took Bjorn to go through the salt treatment.

But the manager had insisted that he’d ‘absolutely love’ the entire thing and he’d ‘undoubtedly regret it if he didn’t try it’.

And in the end, he had begrudgingly accepted, pushing himself to the side of his partner.

Soon discovering that it was you.

The whole weekend that had started a bit slow, was now promising itself to become even more awful, if not a truly disaster.

But thankfully as he came to your side, you just smirked dangerously.

And suddenly Ivar realized how undressed you were.

If you were following the dress rules, you must have worn a bikini and although he could barely see anything the thick fabric of the elegant bathrobe, it took him just a moment to remember a sixteen you in a bikini waiting to jump in the Lothbrock’s pool.

And your legs certainly hadn’t changed much since then.

“… is this the ‘work’ thing?” although your tone was evidently teasing, he couldn’t help but worry about what his ‘white lie’ might appear to be to you.

Worried that it might make him seem an awful father.

“Taking care of Bjorn is kind of a work, if you have to look at it…” he muttered as he shot a look forward where Bjorn was set up next to a pretty tall girl, strangely looking familiar…

… was that Gunnhild?

Your friend from school?

“… but I am sorry, I swear that I didn’t mean anything bad… I just… you know my ‘monster-in-law’…” he muttered a bit blabbering up the world and although you kept that easy going smile on your face it was obvious that his lie bothered you.

“I do understand it” and your words were true “… but next time, just tell me the truth… I swear that I won’t judge you for taking a break from everything”.

And you lightly gestured at your attire.

“… I mean… I don’t think that I could judge you I…”.

“Don’t start” he grumbled “… I know how hard you work yourself to the bone for Eric and your mother, you deserve a break from everything, truly”.

The soft smile you delivered to him made his heart flutter softly, almost like a schoolgirl and his idea of a weekend away from you proved to be as inefficient as believing Bjorn’s true interest in his sibling’s wellbeing.

Why was that whenever you tried to take a break from each other you were just brought closer, eventually leading to this.

Although you still looked uneasy about the fact that he had lied to you (something that certainly always casted his downfall), you went quickly back to mindless chatter as he asked you to confirm whether it was Gunnhild, the girl beside his brother.

‘Oh yep!’ you replied, as you tried to take a quick peak to Bjorn ‘… she is actually the one who offered me to come here, since she had an extra reservation’.

He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he heard that.

You had come with an old friend.

No new flame or any love interest in sight.

Not that he should have been jealous of either.

Not that he would have been one, for sure.

“… Bjorn think that this way he can avoid buying whatever expensive thing Freydis has put on our wedding list” he commented, making you smirk lightly, as you both waited for your turn “… but I’ll make him pay dearly, for abandoning me”.

“Honestly… don’t take it personally but Bjorn is a dick” you shot back lightly, and he smirked right at you “… always thought so and always think so”.

“Gunnhild doesn’t seem to think it that way” in fact your friend was leaning flirtatiously against Ivar’s brother, and an immediate look of warning appeared on your face, eventually passing an hand your forehead to erase that expression.

“She is desperate to get back to her ex, she hasn’t exactly… a pendant for good taste”.

“You said that, not me”.

And as always, the conversation with you was so easily that it was something that was deeply rooted inside of you, making you unable to hold both your tongues.

And it was something that he knew painfully that he wouldn’t have ever had with Freydis.

As much as he told himself that it would just grow with time.

But it had just come naturally with you, meanwhile with Freydis he felt like he finished the things to talk about.

“… it seems it is our turn” he muttered softly, as he noticed the manager trying to usher you in, meanwhile the couple in front of you exited lightly reddish “… I do hope it works by the way”.

“I am just waiting to dive back in the thermal water, I just…” and the slight moan that left your lips was so sensual that it left itself stuck between you, making Ivar licked his lips to withhold any comment he might have muttered “… have had these sore muscles”.

And you immediately blushed as soon as the meaning of the words hit you fully.

And Ivar blushed himself.

He took the bathrobe off only inside the room, although the manager offered her hands to take it, but he preferred not to be seen by any strangers and he was thankful for once to Fate that he had been paired with you.

Who were used to his legs, although he wore something more similar to black leggings that a proper swimsuit, having worn over it his crutches this way he’d be able to walk upright, with the sole use of a crutch.

Inside he disrobed, as you did, almost as shy as him.

Your gaze focused away from him.

But it wasn’t the typical morbid ‘don’t look, don’t look, don’t look’, but it was more a gaze that was focused on your own body.

To which he took a quick look at it, hoping of not being mistaken for a pervert.

He called it curiosity, but the truth was that he wasn’t simply still emotionally attracted to you.

He was also physically enamored with you.

And your body had changed from your carefree time as a girl, but he would have lied, had he said that you were somehow less beautiful for that.

Each scar and mark making you appear as some kind of primitive and powerful goddess.

“… Mr. you also have to remove your pants” muttered softly the employee that handed the salt samples, shooting a quick look to Ivar’s complex braces, making him unable to stop the light growl that started at the back of his throat.

He was halfway through giving her a piece of his mind, when you shot back, with a soft voice you used for courtesies in which you didn’t believe truly.

“… my friend has a physical condition, so he’d prefer to keep his pants on” your voice was soft-spoken and light in a way that Ivar’s gruffy tone could never be “… if it is possible obviously”.

The employee shook her head, evidently convinced by your tone, and she even turned to give you a bit more of privacy and nothing stopped Ivar from sharing with you a small smile.

Which you returned.

* * *

You had been surprised by Ivar’s presence at the spa and deep down you couldn’t deny that his white lie didn’t make you uncomfortable, but on one side you could understand why he had chosen not to tell you.

You obviously didn’t belong in his life, as much as you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from catching a few of his smirks.

His handsome smirks.

Eric was one thing, meanwhile you didn’t belong in his life, even more when Freydis would be his wife in a few months.

… but why had he lied also to her?

She had certainly been against his involvement with Eric at the start, but she had swiftly adapted and moved on from there, being accepting and nice towards you.

Her mother was another question.

But you couldn’t blame somebody’s child for their parents’ mistake.

You knew it all too well.

But again: it wasn’t your family.

So, you shouldn’t stick your nose in it.

Still, it was impossible for you not to feel something change from the original spa day you had planned, starting from the fact that for the rest of the treatments you had been paired with Ivar, since Bjorn and Gunnhild seemed attached to the hip.

You low key wanted to warn her, but from Gunnhild’s good humor you knew that she’d just use him for one night, maybe two.

She’d chew him and then spit him out.

But you still felt uneasy under Bjorn’s gaze, although he had been low key respectful and polite with you, but again, you did know what he meant truly behind that curtain of pleasantness and in the end spending your day with your ex, revealed itself much easier than you thought.

Which scared you.

You felt like there were just a few meters between your ‘non-relationship’ and a ‘future relationship’.

And Freydis held the place in between.

You couldn’t just do that to another woman, alongside the fact that Ivar had told you not too long ago that he had stopped feeling anything for you, so you shouldn’t have let your hopes up.

It would have just got you heartbroken again.

And yet, you couldn’t deny that Ivar hadn’t lost any once of the savage allure that you had fallen in love with, matched with the complicity that brought you so close even after five years spent apart.

Obviously, your conversation was mainly about Eric, a safe argument for both of you.

It allowed you to talk about each other, without risking of sounding tempting or any less innocent than you both wanted, in that kind of conversation.

But inevitably you moved onto other topics such as Ivar’s devilish mother-in-law, your new job and Gunnhild’s bad taste in men, as Ivar also joked that he recognized that his brother wasn’t a good match.

‘… he is trash’ he muttered as you rinsed from the last treatment, a mud wrap up that made you both seem like two slithering worms ‘… I am not even going to try to defend him’.

‘At last you realized it’ you had shot back, gaining a quick look of question from him, as you passed tentatively under the cold shower, complaining and already wanting to go back in the comfortableness of the thermal waters ‘… oh c’mon, you idolized him and your father, when you were younger’.

‘… and that is why I ended up being this fucked up’.

‘No, sweetheart, I have to inform you that you were already an asshole’ you had retorted and had even dared to splash him with some water, gaining quite an annoyed look from your ex-boyfriend and father of your child.

And you would have lied to say that it hadn’t done things to you.

And you were thinking about those things as you slowly undid the bathrobe after the long shower you had had, feeling your skin so sensitive due to the treatments that you weren’t able to stop a moan from leaving your lips.

And you were thankful that Gunnhild was out for a smoke with Bjorn.

You wondered when she had started to smoke, but you were glad that she’d at least have some kind of distraction.

Although you weren’t again sure that Bjorn was a good idea.

You’d have to talk with her.

And tell her that Bjorn was only good for one night.

If she wanted more, she’d have her heart completely pulverized.

And you didn’t want to see that.

Again.

You sneaked into the underwear you had brought, one of the most expensive you owned, nothing too frilly, since ‘old age’ and ‘giving birth’ had chosen to make you more attentive to what you wore, opting for a more conservative and natural look.

Always cotton and no thongs, although the high-waisted pink beauty that you were wearing valorized your figure much more than any of those things you had worn back in high school and they were the only pair that you had a matching bra of, a thing that was much frillier.

But held your breasts in a way that was flattering and constricting.

You definitely felt a bit sexier.

And much relaxed.

You definitely had needed this.

Although you did miss Eric but knowing that he was happily helping Aslaug out with starting a small garden in your miniscule balcony, certainly made your mind a bit lighter.

And you went to check your phone for more pictures, putting on a huge sweater that belonged to your ‘maternity clothing’, in case Gunnhild walked in suddenly, although you knew from the look she had lastly sent you that it’d take time.

So, you were startled when a knock on the door told you that somebody was asking for you.

You quickly wore a pair of leggings to match the whole assemble, shouting a quick ‘a minute!’, before you jumped to the door, thinking it might be either the reception asking for you to confirm your dinner reservation or Gunnhild, back early, because she had realized that Bjorn wasn’t worth it.

And it wasn’t either.

But it was Ivar, standing clumsily on the threshold.

And for a moment you thought that it was just your imagination.

Months of lack of sleep and tiredness will do that to you.

Because if it wasn’t a hallucination, it seemed like you were almost being pushed together by Destiny.

“I do think that you know, but my mom is at your house” he mumbled, making you gulp, because you suddenly realized that Aslaug had just visited your shithole of an apartment “… she said that she found everything perfectly in order and that she is having fun with her ‘favorite grandson’ “.

“Just because it is her only grandson” you laughed a bit, dispersing the embarrassment between you two “… and I do know, I have seen the pictures and I am amazed that she managed to plant anything on my lilliputian balcony”.

“It’s a gift” he commented, with a warm laugh that made your whole skin redden “… that I didn’t inherit, because believe me, with me only plastic plants can survive”.

“We are in two, then” you muttered, and you just stood there painfully stuck on those places till you were just rushed to ask him “… would you like to come in?”.

“Ahem… no don’t worry” you were almost relieved by his answer “… I just… thought I’d… check on you”.

And that slight affirmation made you unable to hold back your fluttering heart.

And yet, you were stuck on the ground, mouth open and unbelieving eyes.

You must have looked like a cartoon character.

“… I appreciate it”.

Your tone tried to convey the all ‘this is an entirely platonic relationship’ but you couldn’t help but lose the last part of it as it broke on your tongue in a way that utterly destroyed you.

“Well, I’ll go…” he tried mumbling, just to turn around and be met with an annoyed half-dressed and quite disheveled Gunnhild, who still managed to look royally pissed off.

His expression of pure terror made a smile smirk appear on your face.

“Hi” she simply muttered but to you it sounded more like a huge ‘fuck off’.

“… hi” shot back Ivar “… I was just going, back to my room”.

“Do what you want” again that ‘you do you’ tone and hadn’t you been horrified by how close you had felt into falling again in Ivar’s arms you would have gladly laughed at your friends’ antics “… by the way, I kind of… got proposed by Bjorn to join him for dinner… but we already have reservations…”.

And as a mother of a five-year old that had learned from a young age to use reverse psychology, you knew that Gunnhild meant the complete opposite her words said.

“… we can delete, if you want to go” you muttered as Ivar stuck painfully between you two, interested in the dialogue and yet warned to go by Gunnhild’s uneasy smiles towards him “… I have no issue with just staying in and ordering and watch a few TV series, God knows how long it has been since I last saw one without being interrupted by Eric!”.

Ivar smirked to you as if he wanted to say: ‘I totally and completely believe you’, since he also knew what kind of hyperactive monkey your son was.

“No, no! I said that this would be a girls-only weekend and I don’t want to leave you behind…” a quick look at Ivar stopped her from saying ‘for some dick’ “… for a dinner”.

You were also grateful that she hadn’t mentioned Bjorn’s appendage.

But you honestly didn’t want to get in your friend’s way.

And knowing Gunnhild, she wouldn’t have been happy till she got what she wanted.

And you honestly preferred to enjoy your dinner alone, not having to dress up for anything cool or cute, not having to impress any of the celebrities that you had spotted visiting the spa.

You had packed a little black dress, still (as your mother said ‘it was useful in any situations: cocktail parties, weddings and funerals alike) but the leggings and the huge sweater you were wearing were definitely much more comfortable.

And heels… Gosh you’d have to wear heels.

“… don’t worry, I understand” you tried to sound convincing to Gunnhild’s own conscience, as you looked for Ivar’s help, but the boy cautiously kept his head down, meanwhile the woman searched your eyes desperately.

“I don’t want to leave you alone” her lips lightly wavered and for a moment you were convinced that you had an actual child in front of you, and welcomed her with the sweetest of smile, preparing a soothing discussion.

Just to be shut out by Ivar.

“I can make her company” yeah that did sound totally ‘platonic’ “… I mean… you go out with my brother and I go out with (Y/N), this way we don’t have to delete our reservations and she isn’t alone…”.

“… don’t you have a wife, Ivar?” shot back Gunnhild, her protective personality definitely coming over her willingness to get dicked down properly.

And you honestly were again grateful for your friend’s fierceness.

A dinner with Ivar, alone, without Eric or Freydis seemed a perfect recipe for a disaster.

“That’s a very nice proposal, but I don’t know if the restaurant will allow us to change our reservation” you tried to keep yourself tightly polite in your words, not wanting to let any emotion linger.

And not wanting to shoot down fully Ivar’s proposal.

Because you didn’t want to, truly.

“… I can call them to see, but I don’t think it’d be a problem” and then turning to Gunnhild he muttered through gritted teeth “… and I do have a fiancé, who knows (Y/N)”.

The obvious ‘and you should mind your own business’, was forgotten at the end, but very clear in the air.

“I…” you didn’t know with which excuse to come up, not wanting to deny Gunnhild a bit of relief and not wanting to fully accept Ivar’s proposal, alongside avoiding hurting or offending him “… you should call and then we’ll see”.

It was a call for a truce between the two parties.

And Ivar seemed to quickly get it, nodding and moving away as he waved you a small ‘goodbye’, and when he wasn’t in your line of sight anymore, Gunnhild shot you an inquisitive look.

“… I am not leaving you alone with him”.

“This time I am on the pill” you tried to brighten the atmosphere as you closed the door behind yourself “… and you should go out to that dinner with Bjorn, I’ll come up with an excuse on why I have to stay in here watching ‘Law & Order: SVU’ till sleep will overcome me… which might happen right after dinner…”.

“I honestly don’t mind staying in here” her tone said the contrary “… we can have dinner and then have a few drinks together…”.

“That sounds delightful, but I also don’t want to hold you back” you replied with simple word as you sat down on your bed, and Gunnhild was right by your side “… you have already gifted me a wonderful vacation, and I do think that is much more than many have done for me in these five years”.

Gunnhild seemed to consider it for a few moments, biting painfully her bottom lip and then releasing right as her eyes shined with the light of recognition.

“… you do promise that you won’t do anything stupid, right?”.

You erupted in a laughter that definitely dissipated the tension between you two.

“… how can I do something stupid when you take all the stupidity with you”.

“That was a low blow”.

“And I am proud of how I delivered it”.

Your mini-pillow fight that started a few minutes after your comment was interrupted by your phone beeping and Gunnhild left you a bit of privacy to answer it, going to shower for her ‘big night’, since she thought it was your mother again.

But it was Ivar.

‘I managed to change the reservation and to put us as far away as humanly possible from my brother and your friend. Are you still onto those dinner plans?’.

That was a low blow against you.

You didn’t know what to say.

Not that Ivar’s bossy tone wanted any reply other than a ‘yes’.

But you couldn’t just accept that proposal without feeling your heart heavy.

And yet your treacherous fingers found themselves answering the message a few minutes after with a:

‘At what time?’.

\---

He had been surprised by your immediate answer to his message.

And a bit amazed and happy at the fact that he still managed to catch your attention.

For somebody who had wanted to use this weekend to get away from everything, he certainly had fucked it all up pretty big.

But maybe… just maybe… if Destiny was pushing you two together it was because you were either meant to be…

… or he was being tempted.

And he just needed to approach more closely the temptation, to find the cure.

And he was sickened of how much he sounded like his father.

The words said by that trashcan resounded in his brain as he carefully chose the suit for that night out, although he hadn’t been able to pack his best pieces, assuming he’d have a simple dinner with Bjorn.

One where they pretended to be interested in what the other had to say and tried to keep their hands far away from the knives.

In the end he had settled on a simple ensemble that brightened his eyes, your sole weakness.

Was he hoping to make you fall in love with him again for that detail?

Maybe… just maybe.

And yet, you had always resisted him back then, so why wouldn’t you also now?

You hadn’t also been the one to fall head over heels for him, back then, definitely not being the type to have any kind of schoolgirl romance for anybody.

You had said back then that to be loved by him was one of the best experiences one could ever go through, but the truth was that he had felt the same for you, back then and that was why your emotions were coming so strong, not yet dulled by the years.

To be loved by you meant to receive the gentlest breeze of wind on your face on a summer day, because of your softness and your constancy, your wisdom and your strength, that wasn’t revealed till it was needed.

You were so precious that he, who had lost, just had to try to gain you.

And yet it wasn’t something that he could ever obtain, through any of the mortal tools.

To be loved by you was to be loved by a goddess, herself.

And it hurt as being left in a desert without your pure air.

And that was nothing compared to Freydis’ love.

It had taken him all that time to realize it.

And now he was painfully stuck.

“You do look…” muttered Bjorn as he exited the bathroom “… good, brother. Trying to impress your baby mama?”.

“… you know, unlike you, I don’t always bring back to bed the girls that I go to dinner with” the sole answer that he received from his older step-brother was a tight smirk, completely and utterly sarcastic “… we are just friends and polite towards each other for Eric”.

“Of course, baby brother, whatever you say” commented condescendingly Bjorn, not even looking up as he went through his mess of a luggage, probably having been that way since Torvi had left him “… I won’t be back, I booked another room for cases like this, so don’t wait up late for me…”.

He had long ago understood that his brother didn’t truly want to spend time with him, and he honestly didn’t want either, but this didn’t mean that it was in any way a mute pain.

He would have made sure that Eric and Freydis’ child would have gotten along and received the same amount of attention and love.

“Have fun” he muttered laconically, as he proceeded to tie up his shoes.

“… that means you’ll have the room all for your own” the obvious flirty attitude in her words meant much more than he implied and it got on Ivar’s nerve, although he held back whatever tinge of anger stuck to his body “… although I’d be careful to procreate any bastard… you have already one…”.

He cursed his legs and himself for having forgone his braces inside the room, but he quickly reached up to Bjorn, sneaking up behind him and pushing him further away from him in a way that was aggressive.

To say the least.

“Fuck off and clean your mouth when you speak about her” Bjorn’s initial surprise left soon room for a sarcastic smirk “… you have no idea about what goes on through us”.

“Oh, baby brother, I know perfectly and I’ll give you a suggestion as a wedding gift…” he opened softly his mouth in what would have been a perfect imitation of the concerned brother “… screw them both till you can”.

And Ivar had to think about the trouble he would have gotten in had he ended up punching his brother as he wanted, but instead he pushed him again with much more force and moved to the mirrors, grabbing his jacket, as he fell onto the bed.

His braces were next as he moved almost mechanically, hoping to get the furthest away from there in a few minutes and when he was ready and Bjorn had just started adjusting his gelled hair, he turned to him one last time.

“… by the way, about (Y/N)’s friend…” he caught his snickering brother’s attention, unchanged since he was sixteen “… she’ll rip your dick off, if you mistreat her”.

And like that he was off and away.

You should have met in the restaurant lobby, but he still checked his phone, at least to try to cool off his own temperament and to find out if you had changed your mind.

He wouldn’t have blamed you.

But no message appeared aside from a small ‘goodnight’ from Freydis.

She had told him that she was extremely tired, nothing worrying, and she was in the ‘good company’ of her mother and he couldn’t deny the tiny pang of guilt he felt in his chest.

Would this have also happened without having known you?

It would have certainly felt better.

Less complicated.

The other message he received was a photo from his mother with your own at your dinner table, and Eric in the middle all surrounded by various cup of ice creams.

You would have probably had a stroke, if you had seen it, but he would have gladly kept your secret.

And as he reached the restaurant lobby, he found you, waiting for him.

In a small black dress.

And combat boots.

You had definitely tried your best for the whole ‘expensive dinner’ aesthetic.

The little black dress heightened your figure, showing your figure in a way that revealed your age and gave you a timeless elegance and his mind, who should have flown to compare you to Freydis, stuck itself on you.

Solely you.

You noticed him then and waved at him, shyly, blocking your arm halfway as if you had suddenly realized who he truly was.

And Ivar had to compose himself for the fact that this wasn’t a date.

As soon as you noticed Ivar your mind said: ‘you little bastard’.

He had worn a color that showed out his beautiful blue eyes.

Your sole weakness.

Something that hadn’t changed through the years, although Ivar’s body had certainly changed, growing to be thicker in a powerful way, different from the scrawny and angry boy he was back as a teenager.

But not less enticing.

You shouldn’t have accepted to go out, but you had thought that in the end it wouldn’t have been that dangerous, as much as you and Ivar had gone back to your role as friends, you knew that there were many things holding you back from reaching a relationship.

And more importantly: Ivar wouldn’t have been interested with you, with somebody like Freydis waiting for him at home.

It was harmless.

His outfit wasn’t.

But that was because your mind hadn’t been able to shift away from the steamiest of thoughts.

It must have been the warm water.

“… hey!” you muttered shyly, as he came towards you and you didn’t know how to greet him properly, going for a light wave, before you realized just how awkward you must have seemed.

“Have you waited for a long time?” he asked, something in his voice sounding dry and you couldn’t deny the way his gaze lowered onto the ground as you shifted yours on his, almost in a synchronized time.

“No, no!” why had you to sound so excited “… I actually just arrived”.

“Oh, I am glad!” he muttered as the awkward small talk brought you to look at each other with pure tension in your eyes “… we should go”.

“Yeah, definitely”.

That was an ‘optimistic’ start.

You hoped that food would dull the annoyance of those moments.

As you sat down to the table, led there by an elegantly dressed maître, you were both asked a few questions on your staying and if you’d be drinking wine.

‘I am fine with water’ you knew it probably sounded very very ‘cheap’ but the last thing you needed was alcohol and Ivar agreed with you, saying that ‘he’d have to take pills later’.

You consulted the menu, but it was all an elegant excuse to look at each other, with a protective curtain.

But you both noticed your eyes and your gaze.

“… I’ll take the…” you didn’t focus in the slightest on what he said, strangely focused on the way his lips moved, so tantalizing full and soft in the way they came in contact “… and you?”.

“Oh” you couldn’t let the gasp stay in your mouth a moment longer, but you hid your face on the menu, since you hadn’t focused on it for too long, thankful that you had been given the menu without the prices, since everything sounded expensively miniscule “… I’ll go with the… sea risotto”.

“Oh, that’s a nice choice” he muttered before a wiggley smirk appeared on his face “… I thought that you didn’t eat anything with fish”.

“Many things change when you have a child” you muttered as you settled down the menu at the same time Ivar did “… you have to give the example to your child, even if it means eating stinky fish…”.

The laughter that left Ivar’s lips definitely helped a lot in releasing a bit of tension.

“Not to rain on your parade but…” he said softly as he pushed your phone to you, showing the incriminating photo of your mother, Aslaug and Eric badly hiding ice cream tubes “… I do think that you’ll need to do better”.

“Those assbutts” you uttered under your breath, although you knew that any comfort food might be used with Eric on this night and you forgave your mother for it.

Even more because she would have been the one dealing with a sugar-high child.

What surprised you was how well your mother and Asluag had gotten along and apparently next week they’d be going to the shooting range to have a bit of fun, between them two.

You didn’t know whether you should be scared or proud.

You definitely were thankful of having two women like that in your life.

“… no swear words is also what happens with children?” he joked, and you just tried to focus on the fact that he was probably asking because he had a child on the way himself.

One that’d be his whole universe.

And you’d be happy for him.

Although it’d make you die inside, a bit.

That’d been the proof that no part of Ivar belonged anymore to you.

“You’ll learn” you muttered softly “… it is like with swimming, you get thrown in it and you either swim or you drown”.

“I’d prefer not to drown as a father” he said lowly “… you know we already have one screw-up of a father… no wait with Bjorn is actually two…”.

You weren’t unable to stop the laugh that filled your mouth and you smirked softly as you raised to meet his gaze again, quieting your whole mood as the waiter came with the water and took your order, an awkward silence following his leave.

“… you wouldn’t be such a bad father” you didn’t say it simply because the utter silence that had fallen between you was an horrid torture, but because you knew that you meant it “… I mean… you are good with Eric…”.

Ivar looked at you unbelievingly and for a moment you couldn’t believe to have shut up the great Ivar the Ruthless and you almost thought about the possibility of asking for a glass of wine, simply to enjoy further his silence.

An utter pleased expression was reflected on your glass.

“… thank you” also his words rang true.

And so warm that you felt almost hugged.

And as his eyes left your face, you felt utterly cold.

And you remembered what this would have meant.

How hurtful it would have been again after he left you.

Why couldn’t you just learn?

You retracted yourself from the table, not having noticed that you had inched closer to him, in a way that was meant to distance yourself from him physically and mentally.

But you were too far gone.

And after the delightful dinner, you had managed to warm up again and when Ivar suggested that you went out for a few drinks, since both your roommates wouldn’t be back soon, you couldn’t refuse him.

Although you should have.

Alcohol and Ivar, not a good mix.

You started with wine, as Ivar asked for bourbon (the pills long forgotten), gaining an immediate incredulous look from you, as you shook your head as if to say: ‘what a pretentious prick!’.

“I have good taste” he shot back.

“… you have the taste of a grandpa”.

“An expensive grandpa”.

“Why did I even fall in love with you?” you muttered, but as you realized what you had just said you just chose to drink a huge gulp of the white wine you had chosen, the least expensive you could find since you had told Ivar that you’d pay for your own drinks.

‘At least let me pay for them, I don’t even pay your alimonies’ he had muttered jokingly as you had sat down, his eyes daring a small look on your legs and for a moment… just a moment…

… you had felt good.

You had felt like your body was sexy, not a simple container of your organs.

You needed to get laid seriously, as Gunnhild had brilliantly deduced.

‘… you are lucky this drink is so expensive, or I’d throw it at you’.

“… I think that Hvitserk was busy, Sigurd was more interested in guitar than girls, Ubbe was a mother hen and you are already one and Bjorn…”.

“… is an asshole” you completed the quote, and Ivar held your gaze with a smirk that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

“… so, I was the only one left” although it was meant for a good laugh, Ivar’s subtle tone told you that he believed it.

He believed that it had been just luck that you two ended up together.

And although he had shattered your heart beyond the point of no return, you couldn’t help but suffer a tiny bit for him.

For the boy who had been your best friend, had held you when you were sick from a hangover and comforted you when you were sad.

“I chose you, Ivar” that was the wine speaking.

Definitely not.

But Ivar didn’t have to know.

“Those are big words” he commented, although he held himself in check, not wanting to sound too harsh, but you knew that whatever once of evilness and hurt you felt was aimed towards you, uniquely.

“… and I mean them”.

That was crossing a line.

A line you couldn’t turn back to.

“… I never doubted it” and it prompted Ivar to go further as you again pushed yourself towards each other, too close and yet too far apart, in a way that made you want to push closer.

And was disgusted about yourself.

“I never doubted it from you”.

“Good” you tried to cool up your words, to seize them and cute them in tiny pieces so that your emotions wouldn’t be so evident, but it was a difficult thing to do when your heart was on the floor bleeding out and reaching for Ivar.

He didn’t want you.

He’d take it and break it again.

And as your mind advised prudence, your heart just run further.

“… I… think that I need to get something off my chest” muttered Ivar, as he drank away the rest of the drink “… I don’t… I am getting married with Freydis, but I don’t know if I am in love with her”.

‘No Ivar don’t do this please’ your words stayed in your brain as you remembered a similar confession: yours.

But in here Ivar’s words sounded so painfully true and wanted by you.

“You are just getting cold feet” your hands twirled against the base of your glass, to keep your eyes focused on the relaxing movements, knowing that if you had looked at Ivar in that moment you would have been utterly destroyed.

“… no, I just…” and suddenly his hand was onto your arm, naked because of the absence of sleeves, a grave mistake from you.

And your gaze wasn’t able to shift away from him.

“… it has been like I wanted something that I can’t obtain through money and my status” he muttered and an hoarse laughter followed the words “… I thought that I’d have the perfect life, but I am stuck there…”.

“You’ll have a child soon, Ivar, it’ll solve ev…”.

“I saw with my parents that it didn’t work, it just pushed them to utter misery”.

You wanted to tell him that with him and Freydis it would have been utterly different, but you couldn’t lie to Ivar, not when he was too smart to understand the truth behind things.

“They were married to the people they thought they needed, but not the one they wanted” another round, another confession and you felt like you were just reaching the brink of your sanity “… and I thought I needed Freydis, I needed a child to show my brother I wasn’t different… to create my own family but… she isn’t who I want.

“Ivar, don’t say it” your voice was choked and as everything pushed you to run away, to just raise yourself, you found yourself stuck there in a mix between impatience and utter anxiety.

“I want you”.

The laugh that left your lips was immediately matched by the tightness in your chest, something obviously telling you about how wrong this entire situation was.

Coming straight up from a nightmare.

Not a dream.

“… you can’t be serious, Ivar” years had passed and yet the heartbreak didn’t ease, because as much as you wanted to worry about Freydis and the child she was carrying, your first instinct was self-defense “… you said you stopped loving me”.

“And then I saw you!” his tone was high enough to attract a few gaze and before you knew it you had sprinted off, definitely creating a scene, but you just had to get there, but this didn’t stop Ivar.

Hot on your tail.

Your eyesight was blinded by the tears that ran down your face and before you even know it, you realized how sordidly intense the whole thing was, enough that you wouldn’t have ever escaped him.

And soon you found yourself cornered in the a small alcove of the complex building, the wine certainly acting up in your system, because you felt your head weighting heavily on your shoulder as your raised your head to meet Ivar’s stare.

“… I saw you again and I realized I had been an idiot to think that I could have loved somebody else”.

That broke something in you, but you didn’t push or tried to be released by Ivar’s hold.

“… we can’t” your voice was a whisper where his was a scream “… you have moved on, Ivar, I have…”.

“Did you ever find somebody that makes your heart beat like I did?” now his tone was arrogantly haughty it spurred your anger, wanting to make you desperately lie to him, hurt him the same way he had.

But you were utterly different.

Somebody would have called you frail.

But you had never broke.

“Did you ever love somebody the same way you did with me?”.

“What about Freydis?!”.

He had hit you where it hurts.

And you grabbed him by the balls.

“I’ll solve it, but…”.

“There can’t be any ‘but’s in this, Ivar!” you shouted back at him “… I fucking know what it means to be pregnant and alone and I won’t allow that to happen, because you suddenly ‘are so in love with me’!”.

And your teasing had worked.

He pushed you further against the wall, still attentive at you but it utterly broke you.

“… first of all… I am not ‘suddenly in love with you’…” his tone was a growl that hit you deep between your legs “… I fucking have always been and seeing you mature in a mother had made you utterly and fucking perfect to my eyes and I won’t let you discredit my feeling, you might not believe them but don’t treat me like a child!”.

His lips were so close that he breathed his love confession right onto them.

“… and then?” you wanted rage, you wanted anything but that languid look from his eyes that told you that he had noticed the way your legs had brushed against each other and that he had heard your speeding heart.

That he knew that as much as you denied the evidence, you knew.

And you felt the same.

“… and then I’ll solve the thing with Freydis” it was a light step back as he pushed himself away from you, and as much as you were grateful for it, you felt utterly destroyed by the distance.

“I won’t be your dirty secret, Ivar”.

“… but if I solved all of this, would you be… would you be interested?”.

Now the question hit you deeply and you realized how awful it sounded.

How easy you could achieve that.

How much you wanted that.

“I don’t…” you wanted to tell him that you had to see to believe, but you knew that in questions such as love nothing could be proved till the last breath “… I can’t even… fathom that you want me back”.

Now it was Ivar’s turn to be utterly surprised, as if he hadn’t realized how utterly hurt you had been, but the expression that followed what it was utterly lost and sad and you almost wanted to hold him to your chest.

But you kept yourself attached to the wall, as Ivar turned to you.

And your pain, for a moment, was his.

“… I didn’t…” his tone was choked but you knew it was truthful “… I didn’t know back then that I’d have hurt you so much, but I swear to you, right now, that I don’t mean to hurt you anymore.

“… and if this means… leaving you alone…” that choked sob again “… I’ll understand it, but I want you to know that you are the one that I’ll for ever love, although it’ll be one way”.

“Ivar, I can’t…” ‘I can’t go through another heartbreak’.

“… and I am glad that we have Eric, he is the sole good thing that we have done”.

And in your need to shut him up, you kissed him.

You had thought to feel the same that you had felt back then, the sparkle, the butterflies and the intense desire, but something had changed.

Had changed for the better.

As the intensity of the moment completely devoured you, you weren’t able to stop yourself from consuming him completely and utterly, because back when you had been a simple girl, you were now a woman.

A woman that had been hurt and a woman that wanted.

That craved him.

And he was a man, who had done his own mistakes and was paying dearly for them.

But he was also a man that loved you.

And you were sure after that kiss.

And you were undone and rebirthed.

Finally realizing what you had done truly and what it meant.

You detached yourself from Ivar so forcefully that he stumbled backwards, leaving you utterly broken as you searched for the fire that he had ignited in your chest, promising to never leave you cold or alone.

He was truthful.

But life had gotten in the way.

And you couldn’t take anything back.

“… it’s too late, Ivar” you said, but as you were supposed to dart “… but I want to believe that it isn’t”.

You hadn’t slept with Ivar that night.

But after the first kiss, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself and although you should have felt guilty because you both were cheating onto Freydis, who was waiting at home unknowing of anything that was happening, you had just felt that this was right.

This awas good.

You had taken your mother’s discourse about guilt too much to heart.

And that night when you had gone to sleep you had realized for a moment that you might have had the life that you had secretly wanted to have.

‘I’ll tell her when I go back’ he had muttered between kisses, as you both agreed onto the fact that you couldn’t do this behind Freydis’ back ‘I’ll tell her the truth, I do think that it’ll be better for us both’.

He’d still take care of the child.

It was his after all.

And if there was one thing that you had learned from the experience of coparenting with Ivar was that a separate parents dynamic could work.

Still you were scared of Freydis’ reaction.

But as Ivar’s lips soothed you were just utterly convinced.

Gunnhild had come back late that night and you had pretended to sleep, not wanting to face your friend after she had basically told you not to get back with you ex-lover, the sole thing that had happened that evening.

The sole thing that you wanted to do for the rest of the day.

Although you had both chosen to keep your relationship low key.

‘… the others will judge’.

‘Let them judge’ Ivar’s voice was pure fierceness and you purred in his arms ‘… my mother, the sole person whose opinion I care about, likes you, so I think that we’ll be fine’.

It seemed too good to be true.

But for once you refused to feel guilt for the good things of your life.

So that morning you were utterly radiant.

Smile on your face and loose shirt under some sweatpants, completely uncaring of the dressing code in the hall, choosing to awake early so that maybe you could sneak a bit of time with Ivar, to whom you had sent a message.

It almost felt like old times.

Or maybe it had never changed.

How could you tell Eric?

That was what you had to handle, although you’d wait for Ivar to break it off with Freydis, first, not wanting to give him false hope.

You were halfway through going for the fruit section when you felt a hand lightly grabbing your waist.

A hand that utterly male.

And it wasn’t Ivar.

For a moment you thought it was a mistake, but as you turned you realized that it was Bjorn.

Your face must have showed your annoyance at his disrespect, because he immediately dropped his hands raising them as if to say ‘understood, I won’t trouch you’.

“… good morning to you too” you muttered lightly.

“Did you have a nice night of sleep?” his tone was inquisitory in a way that got a coy smirk to appear on his face, making it evident that he knew something.

Which got you to just push away further from him.

“I did sleep nice, the bed is the softest I have ever slept on and not having to share it with a five year old, certainly help a lot” you shot back, your gentlest way to say ‘fuck you’.

“So, you slept in your bed?” again that ‘I know more than you think’ that got under your nerves so annoyingly that you utterly thought about slapping him, but you held yourself back, choosing to find a table to isolate yourself from him.

But Bjorn occupied the spot that you had wanted to reserve to Gunnhild.

“I did”.

“I didn’t” that mischievous grin, almost made you want to vomit right there and then.

You wondered if it would have been enough to scare that idiot off.

“Don’t need to know the details”.

“And what about you and my brother?” that almost got you to choke on the spoon of yogurt that you had put in your mouth, since this questioning was certainly getting out your hands, but before you could say anything else, the discourse deepened “… I knew that you would have gone back to him… nothing could break apart or so we thought…”.

“… we thought?” something sounded horribly wrong.

Utterly horrible.

And it got you stuck there, listening to an asshole.

Bjorn smirked at you as if this was your favorite part.

As a cat that was licking his milk, after having set fire to the kitchen.

You were in for a disaster.

One that was worse than last night.

“… me and my brothers… Ubbe, Hvitserk… Sig… no Sigurd no, he was always too much of a pussy… and Ivar, obviously” at your complete and utter ignorance he intensified that knowing scowl “… you never asked yourself why out of the blue Ivar told you that he didn’t love you, anymore?”.

You were smart so slowly what truly linked all those things together came into your mind.

“… we made a bet” your heart just stumbled in its beats and you felt it slow down till it became completely still, and your breath was stolen from your lungs “… we thought that it would have been fun to see…”.

Ivar had been an idiotic teen back then, but he wouldn’t have…

… and Bjorn answered your question.

“… he would” he drank from your coffee cup “… he accepted to make us see how horridly heartbroken you would be and let me tell you, I am partially proud of how well he handled it all… I thought that he’d chicken out at the last minute”.

Bjorn’s voice reduced to an echo and without noticing you were soon found running away from him, uncaring of your breakfast and people’s eyes on you, you just wanted to be with Ivar.

To ask him the truth.

Because that couldn’t be it.

And you found him quickly.

As always, he was running to you, with the sad way Destiny liked to trick you into finding each other over and over again, in a sick play.

You collided with him with no attempt to loosen the impact, but Ivar didn’t seem to understand the utter fury that cursed through your body, but as he came face to face with you he realized that you weren’t in the mood.

And when you uttered the hurried words ‘bet’ and ‘did you do it’, you had all the answers that you needed in his stare.

And that was enough heartbreaking.

You pushed yourself away from him as if burned.

As if he was infectious.

He had brought you to destroy what little self-respect you had and now you’d pay dearly for it, broken beyond belief a second time.

And as he reached out for you, you pushed him back.

And this time it was final.

“Don’t come for me anymore” you uttered and felt his heartbreak “… you are solely Eric’s father, from now on, no matter what fantasy last night might have installed in your head”.

What he didn’t know was that the heart that had reached out for him last night, was now stuck underneath his shoe.

“Forget me, for ever” you uttered “… just promise me you’ll respect this bet, at least”.

You couldn’t turn around to meet his eyes.

You couldn’t just wait there and hear his excuses.

You were too broken.

And you thought this time this sensation would have lasted.


End file.
